Torn
by jazzpha
Summary: Unable to master his Hollow atop Soukyoku Hill, Ichigo agrees to ally with Aizen in exchange for his help in controlling his Hollow with the Hougyoku. What changes will this defection cause, for Ichigo, Hueco Mundo and Soul Society? GrimmSoi
1. No Turning Back

**Disclaimer: **I do not own Bleach; Tite Kubo does. I do, however, own this story and the ideas included therein (to a point), so don't use anything from here without first asking me for permission. Thank you kindly.

**Torn**

**Chapter 1: **No Turning Back

* * *

"You know that they'll never take you back, boy. Not now; not after this."

Ichigo felt the words slam into him like shards of glass, slipping underneath his skin painlessly until their true meaning became apparent and the agony began to blaze along his nerves. As much as he hated to admit it, Aizen was right.

He was a monster. Or rather, he was too weak to control the monster dwelling inside him. Either way, what mattered weren't the details, but the end result: he had brutally attacked Renji and Rukia while under the influence of his Inner Hollow. And now his two friends, one of whom he had valued above even his own life, were inches away from death. And it was his fault for being so weak.

"If you seek control, I can give it to you," Aizen continued insistently, before walking over towards Rukia's prone, bloodied body.

"Don't touch her!" Ichigo shouted, but he was restrained by Gin before he could lunge towards his enemy.

"Ah ah, careful," Sosuke said lightly. "We wouldn't want your Hollow coming out again, would we? If that happened now we might just kill you, rather than risk you wounding me like that again."

Kurosaki eyed the massive gash he had ripped into Aizen's shoulder with satisfaction, but once again he had to concede the point to his foe. Going limp from exertion and disgust, Ichigo could only watch and snarl as the bespectacled man lifted Rukia's body up into the air with all the delicacy of a sledgehammer; Gin's zanpakuto resting by his throat was a clear warning of what would happen if Ichigo tried to make a move.

The brown-haired villain pulled out some kind of small, purple tube and activated it with a click, causing green spikes to rise from the ground in a circle around him while the same material covered his hand. Ichigo might have let out a strangled scream as he saw Aizen's hand plunge directly into Rukia's soul, but he couldn't really hear anything over the anxious beating of his own heart. The traitor Captain wordlessly removed a small, jewel-like object from the violet-eyed Soul Reaper's form and let her drop again, the shock causing her eyes to flutter open. Rukia saw Ichigo standing with Gin and Tosen and her eyebrows furrowed into a confused, Ichigo-style frown. The sight might have made the orange-haired Soul Reaper chuckle, if his heart wasn't breaking from seeing what he'd done to her.

"I—chigo?" She strained out, causing Kurosaki's heart to freeze at how weak the once-powerful warrior sounded.

It was all his fault.

"Don't move, Rukia," he said sadly, but with a hint of tenderness. "Please. Don't shorten your life any more on my account."

"Well, this is quite touching, I must admit," Aizen spoke out, "but we have a bit of a problem. Now that I have the Hougyoku, there's no reason for me to leave her alive. Kill her, Gin."

"If you insist, Captain Aizen," the silver-haired Soul Reaper replied, letting go of Ichigo to step forward and prepare his _shikai_.

"Shoot to kill—"

"No!"

Ichimaru froze mid-release as Ichigo's hand closed tight around his own, knuckles white with tension and desperation. Glancing over to Aizen for instructions, the red-eyed Soul Reaper lowered his hand as Sosuke nodded. If his boss wanted to play it this way, far be it for Gin to interfere.

After a few tense heartbeats of silence, Ichigo spoke.

"Are you saying that this thing, the Hougyoki…"

"Hougyoku," Aizen corrected patiently, with the tiniest hint of a smirk.

"Right, whatever," Kurosaki continued. "Are you saying that orb can give me control over my Inner Hollow?"

"A certain amount of control, yes," Sosuke qualified. "Its power is too far advanced now for you to ever achieve complete dominance, but what the Hougyoku _can_ offer you must appeal more than this," he finished, waving his arm out at the two mangled bodies that Tensa Zangetsu had been responsible for carving up. Ichigo sighed, drew together what little pride he had left, and swallowed it whole.

"Fine, he said, "I'll go with you. But only if you let Rukia and Renji live," he added hastily, noticing the amoral glint in Ichimaru's eye. Aizen smiled and shrugged.

"Very well," he answered, "you have my word. If you follow us, I will let both Renji Abarai and Rukia Kuchiki live."

This was a calculated risk on Sosuke's part, to be sure, but the power he would gain from this _ryoka_ boy was definitely worth giving two cockroaches such as these a few more months to breathe. Kurosaki trudged over to the trio of defectors, pondering just what he was getting himself into by taking this devil's deal, when Rukia's voice cut through his thoughts like a knife.

"Ichigo!" she shouted. "What the hell do you think you're doing!?"

The hurt and betrayal in her eyes almost choked off Ichigo's response, but he fought and got the words out regardless.

"I'm saving your life, you idiot!" he shot back, all of his pent-up anger and frustration rushing out at the last person on the planet he had ever wanted to hurt as his brown eyes slipped into yellow. "_So shut up and don't move!_" Kurosaki finished, his voice carrying the signature strain of a Hollow.

Rukia was stunned by the partial transformation, and no one said a word until Aizen looked up at the sky in slight surprise.

"It looks like they're here early," he mused. "Let's go."

The sky was torn open by a massive _garganta_ and four beams of light shot out of it, one for each of the men journeying to Hueco Mundo. As she saw Ichigo being lifted away by the _negacion_, Rukia let adrenaline carry her shakily to her feet as she leaned heavily on her zanpakuto, tilting her face upwards to make one final plea to her friend.

"Please, Ichigo," she called out. "Don't do this to me. Don't leave me! Damn it, you idiot," the Soul Reaper screamed, pouring every ounce of strength left into her final confession, "I love you!"

Ichigo's Hollowed eyes softened for the briefest of moments, and he found himself wanting to hate her for shaking his resolve to its core. But he couldn't, and simply grit his teeth as he turned away from the girl who had come to mean so much to him, a single, bitter tear sliding down his cheek.

"Why do you think I'm doing this, midget?"

Kuchiki's eyes widened at the response, and she felt like she'd just been stabbed. The strength left her limbs as the adrenaline that had been coursing through her veins ebbed away. Rukia fell onto her hands and knees, a stream of tears burning her tongue with their saltiness before splashing impotently on the ground. When the sound of the _garganta_ closing reached her ears Rukia snapped and let out a howl, not caring who or what heard her breaking apart at the seams. That callous bastard had just left her without so much as a goodbye, after she had done nothing less than open her heart up to him, the heart that had been so carefully guarded since the death of the only other man she had ever loved: Kaien Shiba.

"He left me… he's gone. Ichigo's gone," she mumbled over and over, not wanting to believe it but forcing herself to face the ugly truth. Renji, who had seen the whole scene unfold, merely sighed to himself. it was official; any chance he thought he may have had with Rukia was now dead and buried. That didn't mean he wasn't going to be her friend and help her out now, though, when she needed it most. And once Rukia had come back to her senses, Abarai was going to beat the shit out of the person who had broken her heart.

"Ichigo… he growled, fire smoldering deep within his eyes, "I'll never forgive you for this."

When the other Captains and Lieutenants arrived at the top of the Hill far too late to stop Aizen, it was Byakuya who lifted his sister to her feet and supported her as she limped over to Unohana. By the time she had reached the Fourth Division Captain, Rukia had told her brother everything that had happened in the most coherent phrasing she could manage. As he left his sibling in the care of his fellow Captain and allowed himself to be seen to by Kotetsu Isane, the look in Byakuya's eyes was similar to that of Renji's, but much more focused and deadly.

_Ichigo Kurosaki… I _will_ kill you._

* * *

The orange-haired Soul Reaper took in the stark halls of Las Noches with soulless resignation; he had left behind his friends, his family and his heart for the life of a traitor. He was nothing more than a coward, too weak to master his own demons.

Pathetic.

"I hope you find your quarters to your satisfaction, Ichigo Kurosaki," Aizen said pleasantly. "Gin will show you the way, and be sure to get some rest," he finished,

"We have a busy day ahead of us tomorrow."

* * *

**A/N:** So there you have it, Chapter 1. This idea has actually been rolling around in my head for quite some time, but it was only after a similar sort of idea popped up as a possibility in another story of mine that this one finally clicked into place. Also, don't worry if Ichigo seems to be a little weak here emotionally; he's not going to spend the whole story moping around.

**Please** **review** to tell me what you thought, because I'm going to hinge how long or short this story is based on what you guys and gals say about it.

I hope you enjoyed it!


	2. Adjusting

**Disclaimer: **I do not own Bleach, or its characters; Tite Kubo does. I do own this story however, so don't borrow anything too specific from it without first asking for my permission. Thank you kindly.

**A/N:** Before we get started, I'd just like to thank all of the people who reviewed Chapter 1 of this story; I really wasn't expecting such a positive reaction, and I just wanted to say how appreciative I am of your encouraging feedback. You all are awesome.

**Torn**

**Chapter 2:** Adjusting

* * *

Ichigo woke up slowly, groaning as his exhausted muscles refused to budge. When he saw that a plain, white-walled room had replaced his normal one, however, the Soul Reaper sat up in shock and looked around frantically for a few moments as he tried to figure out what was going on. Then the memories of the previous day hit him like a _cero_ blast and Ichigo slumped back down into his bed, clutching his head in frustration.

What had he gotten himself into?

"Rise and shine, Ichigo-kun!"

Ichimaru's perpetually cheery voice dragged Kurosaki out of his thoughts, and he looked over sluggishly.

"What time is it?" he grumbled, and Gin chuckled.

"Time for breakfast," the red-eyed Soul Reaper replied simply. "There's coffee, if you need to wake up," Ichimaru finished as he began to walk back down the hall. "Trust me when I say you're going to need it, Ichigo-kun."

Ichigo gave one last petulant groan and heaved himself out of bed, stretching out his back and rubbing the sleep from his eyes before shuffling over to the closet for some clothes. He found white garments that looked like the inverse of his _bankai_ attire and grimaced; it reminded the orange-haired Soul Reaper too much of his Inner Hollow, but it would have to do if there was no other choice. Still, Ichigo had to admit as he stopped for a second in front of a mirror, it looked pretty good on him.

"_Hey there, partner._"

Kurosaki's eyes shot open in shock as the figure of his Inner Hollow appeared opposite him in the mirror, a wide smirk on his face and a leer in his eyes.

"_I really don't know what you were thinking, coming here,_" the pale being continued. "_In case you lost your brains during the trip, this is Hueco Mundo. The birthplace of Hollows. Here, my power waxes and yours wanes, partner. Eventually, no matter how many times you crawl to Aizen and his _Hougyoku_, I will devour you._"

Ichigo's eyes hardened and blazed with resolve, his reiatsu spiking unconsciously.

"We'll see about that, you bastard," he growled, slamming his fist into the mirror and shattering it for good measure before drawing in a calming breath and leaving his room behind.

Aizen, Gin and Tosen were waiting for him in the main room of the palace, sitting at an oblong table and accompanied by a few other figures.

"Good morning, Ichigo," Sosuke greeted pleasantly. "Please, have a seat; we were just discussing our plan for the day. Kaname, would you care to introduce the present members of the Espada?"

"Espada?" Ichigo broke in, only to be cut off in turn by a man who looked human, but had a fragment of a Hollow mask on his head. He also possessed a distinctive goatee, and black hair that was pointed up in two places to create small horns.

"Oh, you poor, ignorant _niño_," he said, his voice deep but theatrical. "Don't tell me you've never heard of the Espada! We're the most powerful Arrancar in all of Hueco Mundo!"

"Arrancar?" Ichigo repeated, his confusion rising. Before the flamboyant man could go off on another long-winded explanation, Tosen began to speak.

"An 'Arrancar' is a Hollow that has managed to break off part of its mask and acquire powers normally associated only with Soul Reapers," the blind former Captain explained. "Think of them as the polar opposite to what you have become, Ichigo Kurosaki, with a few differences. The Espada are, as Dordonii just mentioned, a group composed of the most powerful Arrancar in Hueco Mundo."

"But wait a second," Kurosaki said, his eyebrows scrunched in thought. "If 'Espada' means what I think it does, there should be ten of them. So where're the other seven?"

"The _jovenzuelo_ speaks our language!" the goateed man, Dordonii, exclaimed happily. "_Que milagroso_!"

"I wouldn't go that far," Ichigo said quickly, not wanting everyone to start speaking Spanish. "I just paid attention in class, that's all."

"The talkative one is Dordonii Alessandro del Socacchio," Tosen resumed as if he had never been interrupted. "The woman is Cirucci Thunderwitch," he continued, gesturing to a stoic, purple-eyed Arrancar with matching-colored dark hair, "and the third is Gantenbainne Mosqueda."

Thunderwitch stayed silent, but Mosqueda waved lazily.

"Pleasure," he said simply, and Ichigo inclined his head in return.

"Indeed, as you so astutely observed, Ichigo," Aizen spoke, "there are, at the moment, only three remaining Espada. The others have unfortunately gone missing, or have been killed by vengeful or power-hungry Hollows. Whatever the cause of their demise, they were clearly unworthy of bearing their esteemed title. In fact," the brown-haired Soul Reaper continued, "that's where you come in, Ichigo."

"How so?"

"I'm going to ask you to train here for today," Aizen said in a tone that was anything but asking, "but in the future, once you have proven yourself up to the task, you're going to accompany Gin in the search for Adjuchas- and Vasto Lorde-class Hollows worthy of becoming our new Espada."

"Before any of that happens," Kurosaki stated firmly, "I want to tap into the Hougyoku."

"Very well," Sosuke acceded. "I can understand your urgency, and for the sake of expediency it would be wise to put your Inner Hollow at bay before you begin your training with Kaname. Come with me, Ichigo," Aizen said simply but commandingly as he rose, striding out of the room with the orange-haired Soul Reaper at his heels. When they were gone, Gin's smirk widened slightly and he spoke.

"That kid's gonna go far," he said, and Tosen nodded.

"His reiatsu is certainly quite impressive," he agreed, "but I hope, for his sake, that he is able to rein in his Hollow. If he becomes a threat to our efforts, I may have no choice but to ask Aizen-sama for permission to end his life."

"I'd like to see you try…" Ichimaru mumbled, and Kaname arched a single eyebrow.

"What was that, Gin?"

"Oh, nothin'," the silver-haired former Captain answered, his signature grin back in place. "Nothin' at all."

* * *

"How is she?" Renji asked anxiously, having run down to Fourth Division as quickly as he could after Byakuya had given him leave. Captain Unohana's kind blue eyes were nothing but sympathetic as she replied.

"Kuchiki-san continues to refuse food," she said evenly, "but we have managed to get her speaking and drinking fluids again, which is a good sign. Progress is being made, Abarai-san, slow though it may be. If you have faith in her, I have no doubt that she will make a full recovery."

"May I… can I see her?" Renji asked, and Unohana merely stepped aside gracefully, smiling. The red-haired Lieutenant walked into the curtained enclosure as calmly as he could, but his knees still shook slightly with each step he took. Making his way over to Rukia's bedside, he sat down and waited for his preoccupied friend to pry her gaze away from the birds perched on her windowsill. After a few awkward heartbeats of silence, she turned her head to face her oldest friend. The hollow look in her usually vibrant eyes made Renji want to run to Hueco Mundo and bludgeon Ichigo into oblivion right then and there, but he restrained himself. This wasn't about his craving for vengeance, it was about helping his injured friend.

"Captain Unohana tells me you're not eating," he said solicitously, and Rukia shrugged.

"I'm not hungry," she replied weakly, and Renji's caring look turned into a sharp frown.

"Snap out of it, Rukia," he half-growled. "I know it hurts, but you can't let what Ichigo did gnaw at you like this. If you do, you'll be dead inside before you know it."

"How could you possibly know how this feels, Renji?" Kuchiki snapped back with uncharacteristic coldness, before realizing the implications of his words. She hung her head, feeling even worse now than she had a few moments ago.

"I'm sorry," she said softly after a few heartbeats of silence. "That was uncalled for."

"Forget about it," Renji said, his tone clipped as he rose from his chair. "I gotta get back to work; if you haven't eaten something by this afternoon, though, I'm gonna come down here and get Zabimaru to make you."

Rukia cracked a thin smile at the threat.

"I wouldn't expect anything else from you, Renji," she replied. "But I don't know how much faith I'd put in your zanpakuto. Zabimaru's a big softie underneath his tough shell, just like you."

_Foolish woman,_ Abarai heard his zanpakuto growl in his head, but he smiled as well nonetheless.

"Whatever," he huffed. "Catch you later, Rukia. Tell you what," he added as he reached the door, "I'll bring rice dumplings down later, but only if you swear you'll stop being so mopey."

Rukia frowned semi-seriously for a moment before relenting with a slim, if genuine smile.

"Fine," she agreed. "You always did know how to bribe me, you jerk."

Renji just chuckled, vanishing with a flash and a smile on his face. One step at a time, he would bring her back. That was his duty, and his promise.

Alone again in the room, Rukia returned her gaze to the window and sighed.

"Ichigo," she said softly, her voice laced with heartache, "where are you?"

* * *

Ichigo stood in front of the diminutive orb, skeptical that such a small object could hold such amazing powers. From the way Aizen had described it on the way into the room, Ichigo had expected it to at least be able to talk, if not pull off a song-and-dance routine.

"The Hougyoku is still gestating right now," Aizen said softly, almost reverently, "but there are ways in which it can be awoken. Ichigo, try focusing as much of your spirit power as you can into it."

The orange-haired Soul Reaper put his hand out tentatively, and was almost shocked into retracting it when thin black tendrils reached out from the orb to wrap around his fingertips. He held firm, though, and began to pour as much energy as he could into the greedy little artifact. It almost felt sentient, and hungry as well, with the way it seemed to leech power into itself. Ichigo kept at it for a good twenty seconds, but nothing noticeable happened.

Kurosaki was tired, beginning to grow very frustrated and on the verge of becoming dizzy when Aizen stepped in, providing some of his own energy to complete the reaction. The corners of the brown-haired Captain's mouth twitched up into the phantom of a smirk: the boy had almost been able to awaken the Hougyoku by himself. Once he had been trained to achieve his true potential, the young Soul Reaper could be the engine which drove Sosuke's machine of conquest. Ichigo would be useful indeed… very, very useful.

Ichigo, on the other hand, couldn't have been paying less attention to his new superior's facial expression. The feeling of the Hougyoku's power pulsing through him was unbelievable, and for a few moments he almost forgot where he was. Suddenly, just as the power reached a crescendo, the brown-eyed Soul Reaper felt the rabid presence of his Hollow become tranquil, its grating voice no longer clawing at the back of his mind.

"Feeling better, Ichigo?" Aizen's smooth voice broke through Kurosaki's euphoric haze and he blinked, swallowing once before replying.

"Yeah," he said, relieved at the calm reigning in his head. "Yeah, I am."

"Good," Sosuke said tersely as he turned to leave, silently commanding Kurosaki to follow him. "That means we can begin your training. Be advised, though, Ichigo," he added, "the Hougyoku is weakened every time it is awakened before it has fully matured, and so we will have to use it as judiciously as we can. I suggest you use these periods when your Hollow is at its most docile to achieve a greater measure of control over it."

"Sounds good," Ichigo agreed, before he realized that he had no idea where to start doing that. "Wait, how the hell am I supposed to do that?"

Aizen just smirked.

"How do you think, Ichigo?" he parried, his voice ever-so-slightly patronizing. "By training, of course. He's all yours, Kaname," Sosuke finished, and Ichigo suddenly found a wooden sword in his hands and a blindfold over his eyes.

"What the hell…?"

"Ichimaru is out searching for prospective Espada," Tosen's voice floated over, "and so, for today, the responsibility of training you falls to me. I will teach you the importance of not relying on your eyes during a duel, Kurosaki. If you can fight blind, you possess an almost incalculable advantage over your opponent."

"Wha…? Ouch!" the orange-haired Soul Reaper shouted, his question interrupted by the swift, harsh blow of a wooden sword slamming into his side. "What the hell, you bastard?" he shouted. "That hurt!"

"Pay attention," Tosen admonished. "I have no qualms about shattering every bone in your inept body, if that is what it will take to build you into a warrior. Your training starts now, Ichigo Kurosaki," the blind Captain finished as Ichigo heard the soft swish of a wooden sword being readied to strike,

"Try to keep up."

The sword arced down through the air, and for the briefest of moments Ichigo could hear the wind whispering through the grains of sand outside as the instinctive spike in his reiatsu amplified his senses to far beyond normal. Parrying the blow without so much as a thought, Ichigo let his momentum carry through into a counterattack that sent Tosen's wooden sword flying out of his hands and clattering to the ground.

"Impressive," the blind Captain allowed, "quite impressive, Ichigo Kurosaki. It seems that we can advance to stage two much sooner than I anticipated."

The mention of a 'stage two' sent shivers down Ichigo's spine: the last time he had heard something like that was during Urahara's training, and that experience had been decidedly less than pleasant.

"What's stage two?" he asked, keeping his voice as even as he could.

"We stop fighting with these," Tosen clarified, taking the heavy wooden sword from his student's grasp but keeping the blindfold in place, "and we start fighting with _these_," he finished, giving Ichigo a sword that felt much, much lighter and more natural to hold. When he realized that he was holding a very real, very sharp katana, however, Kurosaki did a double take.

"Wait… we're training with these?" he asked, incredulous. "But they're… they're sharp!"

"I believe that is the point, Ichigo Kurosaki," the blind Soul Reaper answered, his voice never wavering. As he heard Tosen raise his sword to strike, Ichigo felt the all-too-familiar sensation of adrenaline tensing every muscle in both of his arms at once.

"Ichigo Kurosaki," his teacher spoke out, "the goal of this stage is a simple one:

"Do not allow me to kill you."

The blade fell, swift and merciless, and the duel had begun.

* * *

**A/N:** I hope that was an enjoyable chapter, and **please review** if it was, or even if it wasn't; I'm more than open to constructive criticism, as long as it's not a flame. Next chapter will see the beginning of the creation of the Espada we all know and love, a look at what the Seireitei is up to and a chance discovery Ichigo makes that will change, well, a lot of things. Thanks for reading!


	3. Old Friends

**Disclaimer:** I do not own Bleach, or any of its characters; Tite Kubo does.

**A/N: **Before we get started, I'd like to give a quick shout out to an amazing story by a good friend and frequent moral supporter of mine, MatsuMama. The story is called _Nebula_, and it's an incredibly well-written, gripping and all-around awesome Urahara/Yoruichi tale. Here's the link: .net/s/3881927/1/Nebula .

And now, on with the show:

**Torn**

**Chapter 3: **Old Friends

* * *

Training with Kaname Tosen, Ichigo decided midway through the duel as gashes and cuts littered his body, made his crash-course with Urahara look like child's play. The man was absolutely ruthless, exploiting every single gap or weakness Ichigo was stupid enough to give him. Eventually, after their fifth round had come and gone and Kurosaki thought he was about to pass out from blood loss, the orange-haired Soul Reaper realized what Tosen was really trying to do.

As much as the blind Captain's methods were improving Ichigo's reflexes, speed and overall fighting skill, Kaname's lessons were also purging him of one very important weakness: his fear of death. If Ichigo could stand calm and focused when he had only his ears to tell him where the next attack would fall, he would be utterly fearless when fighting without a handicap. By the time the full moon rose and their final round for the night began, Ichigo's other senses felt so sharp that it was almost like he was using them to see instead of his eyes; he could hear the sliding of Tosen's feet across the ground as he moved and feel exactly what was going on around him by paying attention to subtle shifts in the air currents.

"You are finally beginning to feel, Ichigo Kurosaki, and not just react," the blind Captain said as Ichigo dodged yet another strike and parried with one of his own. "This is the first step you must take if you wish to become truly powerful; only by taking the time to discern your enemy's weak points and attacking accordingly will you achieve true victory in battle. Strength alone may win you battles, but the price you pay using that method is always terribly steep."

"You can sit and wait all you want," Ichigo shot back as he readied for a strike, "but if you leave me an opening that big, no amount of preparation will save you!"

Tosen tensed and shifted his stance to cover what he thought was a weakness in his guard, only to realize when it was already far too late that by doing so, he had opened up the very gap Ichigo had claimed to notice a few seconds earlier. As he reeled backwards from the sharp, searing injury, Kaname's words of praise were at odds with his current state.

"Excellent," he complimented. "You used verbal taunting and misdirection to throw off your opponent's defense. Continue making your mind and reflexes as sharp as your zanpakuto, Ichigo Kurosaki," the blind Captain finished, setting down his blood-stained katana, "and you will become a true asset to our cause."

Being referred to as an 'asset' put Ichigo's teeth on edge, but he shrugged it off for the time being and went to go nap off the soreness in his muscles. After all, he was in no position to question Aizen or his motives.

Not yet, anyway.

* * *

That night marked a watershed moment for Las Noches: Gin returned, scratched and torn but nonetheless accompanied by a fierce, panther-like Adjuchas that had the sharpest blue eyes Ichigo had ever seen.

"This one put up quite a fight," Gin recounted. "I couldn't find any Vasto Lorde, Captain Aizen, but out of all the Adjuchas I saw he showed the most promise. Put up such a fuss that at one point I thought I was gonna have ta kill him, but he agreed to come along before it came to that."

"That's good to hear," Aizen said, his voice slightly amused. "Ichigo, please bring the Hougyoku in here."

Kurosaki nodded curtly and flash-stepped away, soon finding himself in the chamber containing the orb. Picking it up, Ichigo was about to return to the main room when he had an idea. Connecting with the Hougyoku once more, he siphoned off just enough power from the artifact that it wouldn't noticeably weaken. Satisfied that he now had a store of energy with which to tame his Hollow independent from Aizen's discretion, Ichigo returned to the main room with the slightest bit of spring in his step.

"Thank you, Ichigo," Sosuke said as he accepted the orb; if he felt anything different about it, he didn't mention it. "Now, my friend," the former Captain continued as he turned to face the blue-eyed, feline Adjuchas, "would you tell us your name?"

"Grimmjow," the panther growled, his voice as sharp as the edge of Zangetsu. "Grimmjow Jaegerjaques."

"Well then, Grimmjow," Aizen spoke, holding out the Hougyoku and beginning to activate it, "let's see what your true face looks like. _Bakudo number 99, Part 1: Kin_."

Strips of spiritual fabric quickly surrounded and engulfed Grimmjow, but the brown-haired former Captain stopped the spell before the iron bolts ripped into the Adjuchas.

"I apologize for having to immobilize you, Grimmjow," Sosuke said, "but it's the only way to ensure that you don't inadvertently harm yourself during the transformation."

When he finished speaking, Aizen activated the Hougyoku and there was a blinding flash of white light that caused everyone present to shield their eyes. Grimmjow's form writhed intensely at the beginning, with strangled screams filtering up through the ribbons of cloth, but by the time the light faded the Adjuchas' figure was still and silent. The ribbons gradually fell away, revealing a human with neon-blue hair and equally striking eyes. His mask fragment took the form of a piece of jawbone placed on the right side of his face, and his Hollow Hole resided in the middle of his abdomen.

Breathing heavily for a few moments, the newborn Arrancar forced himself to calm down and looked up, surveying the faces of the others in the room. Grimmjow's eyes lingered on Ichigo longer than any of the others, and Kurosaki could tell that Jaegerjaques was sizing him up as a potential rival for the top spot among Aizen's soldiers.

Bring it on, kitty.

"I do not know if it would be prudent to give you a number yet, seeing as how you are the first of your generation," Sosuke broke in, subtly diffusing the tension between his two warriors, "but I can at least give you first pick of the common numeros to be your fraccion."

As soon as Aizen and Grimmjow were out of earshot, a dark look passed over Tosen's brow and he spoke, his voice uncommonly tense.

"I can practically feel the malice and contempt radiating from that one," he said. "He's too much of a loose cannon to be trusted."

"Eh, even loose cannons can serve their purposes, Kaname," Gin replied, smirking. "You just have to be sure to point them in the right direction."

Ichigo sighed and got up to leave, figuring his part here was done, when Aizen suddenly re-appeared.

"While Grimmjow is otherwise occupied, Ichigo," the former Captain said evenly, "I have a task for you to undertake. Consider it your first solo assignment, if you will."

"Yeah?"

If Aizen was at all perturbed by Ichigo's bluntness, he hid it perfectly behind a small smirk.

"Just now I felt an interesting reiatsu signature some distance away from Las Noches; it looks like an Espada that chose exile once I enacted my coup of Hueco Mundo has re-emerged. Here's a sample of his reiatsu," the former Captain paused for a moment to send Ichigo a wisp of spiritual energy, which nestled itself in the palm of his hand.

"When you find him, tell him I'd like to have a word. He goes by the name of Aaroniero Arruruerie."

"I didn't think that creep would die so easily," Thunderwitch spoke up. "If you ask me, though, he can stay buried out there; that… thing is disgusting."

"Putting your personal preferences aside, Cirucci," Aizen replied in a gentle tone that nonetheless managed to make her blood freeze, "Aaroniero is one of the original Espada, and as such I feel that he deserves a chance to redeem himself in my eyes. If he refuses to come along peacefully, Ichigo," the brown-haired Soul Reaper finished calmly, right before flashing away,

"Kill him."

As their leader departed, Gin vanished with a whisper to follow him. Tosen disappeared as well, no doubt to go monitor Grimmjow, leaving Ichigo alone with the three Espada.

"Since when was Aizen our God?" Thunderwitch said acidly, her eyes narrowing. "Just because he's strong enough to carve out his own little chunk of our world, he thinks he can decide which of us live or die?"

"You should be more careful with your words, _senorita_," Dordonii replied. "Aizen might not be a God, but he's certainly powerful enough to destroy any of us without so much as lifting a finger. If he wants to reign over us, that is his right as the strongest. That is the way Hueco Mundo has always been, no?"

Ichigo felt like saying that Aizen had needed to lift a finger to stop his _bankai_, but decided against it.

"He's not even a Hollow," Thunderwitch griped. "He's a goddamn Soul Reaper."

"Not that _all_ Soul Reapers are bad, though," Dordonii amended hastily, giving Ichigo an apologetic sidelong glance. Kurosaki just shrugged; he hadn't expected his formerly mortal enemies to trot out a welcoming committee, after all. Figuring he had best start sniffing out this Aaroniero guy, Ichigo got up and flashed away, memorizing the reiatsu signature as he went. The orange-haired Soul Reaper tried to ignore the fact that he was basically being reduced to an errand boy; he was still dependent upon the Hougyoku to control his Inner Hollow, after all, and if running errands was what he had to do to maintain access to the artifact, then so be it.

Back in Las Noches, Aizen was standing on a balcony looking up at the moon when Gin stepped out from the shadows behind him.

"Are ya sure this is a good idea, Captain?" he asked. "Lettin' Ichigo-kun run free like that, I mean."

"The boy stole some of the Hougyoku's essence from me, Gin," Sosuke answered, his voice as cold, smooth and pointed as an icicle. "If his encounter with Aaroniero unfolds as I imagine it will, he will feel compelled to sacrifice that power. Once he does, Ichigo will realize that not only is he once again in my pocket, but also that there is no way he will ever out-think me. When he comes to understand how total my control is, he will cease to even contemplate foolish acts of defiance. Then Ichigo will be our loyal soldier, and when that day arrives Soul Society won't have a prayer."

Ichimaru simply nodded and vanished, knowing not to debate a point with his Captain when Aizen was in a mood like this. The silver-haired Soul Reaper knew that Sosuke was probably right this time, but he made a note to keep an eye on Kurosaki personally, just in case. After all, one could never be too careful.

* * *

It took Ichigo a good half hour of constant flash-steps before he finally caught onto something stronger than just a trace of Aaroniero's reiatsu. When he found the Hollow itself a few minutes later, however, Kurosaki's jaw all but hit the floor. The reiatsu signature was identical, so unless Aizen had screwed up, which was highly unlikely, the Hollow before him was Aaroniero Arruruerie. But that was impossible, because the person in front of Ichigo wasn't a Hollow.

It was a Soul Reaper, and one that looked disturbingly similar to Ichigo. They were almost the same height, and if you were to have cut Aaroniero's hair a little shorter and dyed it orange it would have been identical to Ichigo's. His eyes were sea-green, a color that Kurosaki knew he'd seen somewhere before but couldn't quite place. To top everything off, he didn't seem to have a Hollow Hole and carried a zanpakuto at his waist.

What the hell was going on here?

"I see Aizen finally sent his dogs after me," Aaroniero said after regarding the orange-haired Soul Reaper for a few moments, his sinister voice at odds with his seeming-kind face. "Why don't you run along back to your master, boy, and tell him I have no interest in serving under a usurper."

Ichigo sighed; this guy just _had_ to do things the hard way.

"I really don't want to have to do this, Aaroniero," he replied heavily, "but if you won't come with me, I'm gonna have to drag you all the way back to Las Noches myself. You have a problem with Aizen, tell him so to his face."

Aaroniero drew his zanpakuto, eyes set in a murderous glare and his mouth drawn into an equally stoic line.

"If you drag anything back to Aizen, brat, it will be your severed limbs."

Kurosaki drew Zangetsu with a growl, shifting immediately into _bankai_. If this guy wanted a fight, Ichigo would give him one. As Aaroniero saw the transformation and felt his opponent's reiatsu rise accordingly, his frown gradually widened into a bloodthirsty grin.

"Not wasting any time, huh? I can respect that." Pointing his zanpakuto blade-down, Aaroniero began to spin it slowly around in a circle. As he did so, it pulsed brighter and brighter with yellow energy.

"Surge through the seas and rage through the skies, Nejibana."

The sword's form became thinner and elongated, until by the time the light faded the zanpakuto had ceased to be a sword and was now a blue weapon that looked like a cross between a halberd and a trident. When Aaroniero slammed the pointed end of the _shikai_ down into the desert sands, a ring of water sprang up around him.

"What is your name, boy?" the Hollow with a zanpakuto asked, and Ichigo got over his shock and confusion long enough to answer him, his voice sharp.

"Ichigo Kurosaki."

Aaroniero smiled wickedly.

"Ichigo, huh? That's a strong name. I'll be sure to honor it by not holding back, Soul Reaper!"

The green-eyed man who could have just as easily been Ichigo's older brother charged, whirling his zanpakuto around like a spear as he advanced. Kurosaki managed to block the first strike without much difficulty, but Aaroniero spun his weapon around and attacked from a different angle altogether with blinding speed. Barely blocking it in time, Ichigo was thrown back by the crushing wave of water that followed the strike. Springing back up to his feet, the orange-haired Soul Reaper refocused himself and put the speed his _bankai_ granted him to good use, deftly weaving around the rhythmic yet brutal attacks of Nejibana.

"Let me ask you something," Ichigo said when to two warriors were deadlocked, black blade grinding viciously against blue steel. "How is it that you have a zanpakuto with a normal _shikai_ if you're a Hollow?"

"Simple," Aaroniero shot back, his eyes gleaming. "I absorbed it at the same time I devoured this Soul Reaper!"

"What?" Kurosaki breathed out, surprised. His enemy took advantage of his shock, breaking the deadlock in his favor with a powerful shove and stabbing out at Ichigo's chest, grazing him.

"What do you mean, 'what', boy?" the Hollow taunted as Ichigo reeled backwards, winded from the dodge that had kept him from being skewered. "Like I said, it's simple. I used my powers to absorb the Hollow that took over this Soul Reaper's body, and now Kaien Shiba's zanpakuto belongs to me."

Ichigo's eyes shot wide open as he heard the name, realizing now that the last person he'd seen with those eyes had been Kuukaku Shiba, Kaien's sister.

"If it's still too confusing for you, though," the Hollow continued with a grin as he advanced again, "I can give you a hands-on demonstration after I incapacitate you!"

"Like hell!" the orange-haired Soul Reaper shot back, smacking away Nejibana's next attack with a hard slash from Tensa Zangetsu and stabbing Aaroniero through his right lung. The Hollow wearing the stolen flesh of a Soul Reaper howled in agony, lashing out desperately and forcing Ichigo to back off before he could administer a killing blow.

"You bastard!" Aaroniero cursed as he clutched his wound, eyes that were not his own widening in pain and rage. As he readied Nejibana and made to lunge forward in one more desperate assault, however, he stopped cold in his tracks and began clutching his head. Ichigo looked on, uncertain of what to do, while his opponent appeared to be fighting a completely different battle inside of his own head.

"Damn you, Kaien!" Aaroniero shouted, his voice losing its cockiness and becoming frantic. "Stop fighting me, or I'll kill what's left of your soul here and now! I have no qualms about shedding this form right now, you know that!"

Ichigo's eyes widened as understanding washed over him: Kaien Shiba's soul was still trapped somewhere within the being that had devoured it, and now that its captor was wounded and struggling the Soul Reaper was fighting to get his body back. But that knowledge also presented Ichigo with a problem: he couldn't kill Aaroniero now, knowing that another, innocent soul was trapped inside of him. If only there was a way to break down the bond non-lethally, something he could use to separate the two souls from each other…

The Hougyoku. It had the power to destroy the boundary between beings as different as Hollow and Soul Reapers, so why wouldn't it be able to liberate a soul forcibly contained in another body? Ichigo knew that to do so would mean sacrificing his ace-in-the-hole against Aizen, but that was worth avoiding butchering an innocent Soul Reaper. Concentrating, Ichigo called up the sliver of the Hougyoku's power from within him and projected it outwards, driving the energy into Aaroniero like a spear. There was a single, shrill scream of agony, followed by a blinding flash of light that obscured the Hollow from Kurosaki's view.

Far away, on a balcony in Las Noches, Sosuke Aizen felt the Hougyoku's energy be discharged and his mouth curled up into a satisfied smile.

Back at the scene of the duel, Ichigo shielded his eyes until the light had faded, leaving two figures in its wake where previously there had only been one. One was Kaien Shiba, and the other was a grotesque figure with a glass bell in place of a head, which contained two floating, white orbs that had faces on them.

"What the hell did you do to us?!" one of the orbs screamed at Ichigo in a high voice, before it was silenced forever as the newly-freed soul of Kaien Shiba slammed his sealed zanpakuto right through the glass. Yanking it downwards, the warrior cut the Hollow who had imprisoned him for so long clean in half. Sighing and wiping off his sword, Kaien Shiba turned to face Ichigo.

"Thanks, kid," he said, before he blinked in amazement as he noticed their similarities. "We haven't met before, have we?"

"No," Kurosaki replied with a chuckle, "we haven't, trust me. I can't get you out of here, though," he added regretfully. "Did you pick up how to make _garganta_ from Aaroniero?"

Kaien nodded. "I should be able to manage," he said. "You want to come with me? You _are_ a Soul Reaper after all, Ichigo, and ya don't seem like a bad guy to me."

The orange-haired Soul Reaper shook his head sadly.

"I can't, I'm sorry," he replied. "Aizen has something I need, and until I get it I'm stuck with him, for better or worse."

"I see," Kaien replied thoughtfully, his green eyes now glowing with subtle strength and kindness, rather than hate and rage. "Well, is there at least something I can do for you, once I'm back in Soul Society?"

"Yeah," Ichigo replied, after he'd given it some thought. "Tell Rukia that I…" he paused for a moment, as if re-thinking his choice of words.

"Tell her I'm sorry."

Kaien nodded gravely, before turning and opening a _garganta_.

"Thank you, Ichigo Kurosaki," he said as he stepped into the inky void. "When we meet again, I'll repay my debt to you."

As the rip in existence closed with a groan, Ichigo sighed.

"Pray that never happens, Kaien," he spoke, "for your sake."

Turning back towards Las Noches, the brown-eyed Soul Reaper now found himself having to think of something to tell Aizen so that he wasn't punished for failing to convince Aaroniero to join the army of Las Noches. As he flashed away, Ichigo prayed that he would still have all of his limbs in the morning.

* * *

While the Captains and Lieutenants were still up trying to figure out the best way to attack and kill the four traitors in Hueco Mundo, Rukia was lying in bed watching the owls fly from tree to tree under the light of the moon. The violet-eyed Soul Reaper was about to fall back to sleep when she heard a loud voice shout out from down the hall.

"_Garganta_! A _garganta_ just opened up right outside of the Seireitei, and the energy signature isn't a Hollow's! It's a Soul Reaper!"

Rukia felt energy flood into her limbs as her heart began to pound harder and faster than it ever had before. Throwing caution to the wind, she jumped out of the hospital bed, grabbed her zanpakuto from the storage closet and flashed out of the room. If it was Aizen, Gin or Tosen she would just sneak back before they saw her, but if it was Ichigo she needed to get there as soon as she could, before someone else showed up and killed him.

Rukia got to the _garganta_ as the rift closed behind its maker, hiding in the shadows as she waited to get a good look at who the man was. When a beam of moonlight fell on his face and illuminated it, Rukia felt light-headed and a little dizzy as all of her breath was suddenly stolen away.

It couldn't be…

Rukia's feet had led her out of the shadows before she even knew what she was doing, pressed on by her disbelieving heart. Surely this was some trick…

"Kaien-dono?" she said timidly. Her old teacher started briefly in surprise turned to face her, flashing the smile Rukia had missed every day since that fateful night in the woods.

"Yo, Kuchiki!" he greeted happily, waving. "Long time, no see."

* * *

**A/N: **So now do you see why Aaroniero wasn't with the original Espada? I have to confess that I'm a big Kaien fan, which is part of why I brought him back, but he also plays a big role in things to come. And the Espada are beginning to emerge, albeit it's just Grimmjow right now. Still, it's exciting, no? I hope you enjoyed it, and **please review**. I'm absolutely stunned by the amount of positive feedback I've gotten so far; you guys and gals are amazing!

**P.S: **In case you missed the shout-out at the top of the chapter, you should all check out the story _Nebula_ by my friend MatsuMama if you haven't already. It's an absolutely awesome Urahara/Yoruichi fic, full of romance, angst, great plotting and equally great writing. Here's the link: .net/s/3881927/1/Nebula . Be sure to leave reviews!


	4. The Undynamic Duo

**Disclaimer:** I do not own Bleach, Tite Kubo does. This story, however, is mine.

**Torn**

**Chapter 4:** The (Un)dynamic Duo

* * *

Rukia stood stock-still as the warm, familiar voice reached her, afraid that if she so much as drew a single breath she would wake up from what was surely a dream. Her old Lieutenant noticed this and sighed in slight embarrassment, scratching the back of his head with his free hand.

"Sorry, Kuchiki," he apologized. "I must have given you a shock, huh, just showing up out of nowhere like this?"

Rukia could only blink, incredulous. A shock? _That_ was the understatement of the century.

"H—How are you even here, Kaien-dono?" the violet-eyed Soul Reaper asked after a few more heartbeats of quiet. "You're supposed to be dead!"

Shiba just chuckled ruefully, smirking.

"Well, sorry to disappoint ya, Kuchiki," he replied, "but I was getting tired of Purgatory, so I figured I'd bust out."

Rukia was silent for another moment, before springing forward and smacking Kaien across the jaw.

"Kaien-dono, you jerk!" she shouted. "How can you make jokes at a time like this?!"

The spiky-haired warrior couldn't help but smile at his former subordinate's outburst, blocking the second slap lazily with his left hand.

"Some things never change, Kuchiki," he teased as his smile widened. "Even after all of these years, your attacks are still predictable."

Rukia felt her anger evaporating like water under a desert sun as her former teacher smiled down at her, her heart swelling so rapidly at the torrent of memories crashing over her that Kuchiki thought it was going to burst at any moment. She got over her emotions a few beats later, but as she was about to retort, the sudden arrival of an intense, familiar reiatsu stopped her cold.

"Kuchiki, what are you…!" Ukitake began, only to have his voice stolen from him when his eyes fell upon his former Lieutenant and widened in disbelief. "Impossible…"

Kaien stepped forward and executed a crisp salute, bowing slightly before rising to lock eyes with his Captain.

"Captain Ukitake," he said. "I'm back."

Jushiro took a moment to analyze everything he could about the man standing before him and claiming to be his deceased officer, and when it all checked out the Captain's shock only increased.

"How can this be?" he asked. "How are you alive? I saw you die with my own eyes!"

"Man, I feel like I'm going to hear that a lot," Kaien grumbled to himself, before straightening up again and addressing his Captain once again.

"I'll tell you the whole story, Captain," Shiba promised, "but can we get inside first? No disrespect, Sir, but it's freezing out here and I could really use a drink, or seven."

The relaxed, sincere voice eased Ukitake out of his stupor, and the white-haired Captain blinked a few times before shaking his head slightly and taking a calming breath.

"Sure thing," he said, flashing a tired smile. "I could certainly use some sake myself. Let's get out of here now, before anyone else shows up and we _really_ have a scene on our hands."

Kaien laughed, his eyes flashing with the gleam of barely-suppressed mischief.

"I like the way you think, Captain. Oi, Kuchiki," he called out as he walked towards Ukitake and didn't hear the girl following him, "are you coming or not?"

"Oh, y—yes, Kaien-dono," Rukia stuttered out, scrambling after her former teacher in a theatrical display of panic that had both Jushiro and Kaien near laughter.

"Some things never change," Ukitake mused, shaking his head in amused wonder before flashing away, with his two subordinates following closely in his wake.

* * *

Ichigo had had quite a lot of experience hiding his emotions behind a expressionless mask throughout the years, but repressing the trepidation he felt in the face of Aizen's searing, searching gaze was one of the most difficult challenges Kurosaki had ever faced.

"Well, Ichigo? Your report?" Sosuke prompted, rousing the orange-haired Soul Reaper from his stupor as effectively as a bolt of lightning.

"I wasn't able to convince Aaroniero to return to Las Noches, Aizen-sama," Ichigo began, the honorific on the end of Aizen's name tasting especially bitter as he said it. "Unfortunately, it escalated to the point where my only course of action was to kill him."

"Which I assume you managed to achieve, considering that you are standing here before me now," Sosuke replied, a subtle edge to his voice that seemed to scream at Ichigo that Aizen somehow knew Kurosaki hadn't actually struck the killing blow.

"An impressive feat, to be sure," the former Captain continued, his tone remaining easy and musing. "Aaroniero was not an opponent to be taken lightly, being a former Espada. While it is regrettable that you were unable to persuade him to join our ranks, Ichigo," Aizen spoke, and Kurosaki tensed up for the inevitable punishment...

"It was not entirely unexpected. You have done well. Grimmjow, please come here for a moment."

The brown-eyed Soul Reaper struggled to catch his breath in a calm manner as relief washed over him: he was still alive. He wasn't even scratched. But Ichigo's relief shifted into suspicion as he realized Aizen was probably playing one angle or another; altruism wasn't anywhere in the former Captain's vocabulary.

The brown-haired Soul Reaper seemed to intuit Kurosaki's thoughts to the letter, shooting his soldier a sidelong glance that said, in no uncertain terms, 'Try to pull a stunt like that again, boy, and I will end you.' Swallowing hard despite himself, Ichigo returned his attention to the present just in time to hear Aizen give Grimmjow his assignment.

"Grimmjow, I would like you to descend into Hueco Mundo's underground, and spread my message to the Adjuchas residing there. If you stumble across one of particular promise along the way, make sure to bring them back here alive, and in _one piece_," the former Captain emphasized, seeing the murderous glint in Grimmjow's eyes. The Espada grunted dejectedly at the restriction, but nodded nonetheless.

"No sweat," the fierce Arrancar answered. "Unlike some people," Grimmjow continued, shooting a pointed glare at Ichigo and smirking at the look of fury that flared in Kurosaki's eyes, "I'm actually competent enough to get a simple job done."

As Jaegerjaques made to vanish, however, Aizen stopped him with a raised hand.

"Wait a moment, Grimmjow," he commanded. "You won't be going alone," Sosuke elaborated, his voice laced with dry amusement. 'Ichigo will be accompanying you on your mission."

"What!?" both of them shouted simultaneously. "You can't expect me to work with that loser," the Arrancar growled. "Knowing him, he'll probably get us both killed!"

"Anything may be possible, Grimmjow," Sosuke replied smoothly, "but likelihood is a different story altogether. I have no doubts about Ichigo's ability to perform to my expectations," he finished, his tone sharpening. "Don't make me regret extending you the same courtesy, Grimmjow."

Even Jaegerjaques was cowed by the deadly implications of that statement, but he didn't dare flinch in front of his rival.

"I understand," he grumbled. "C'mon, ginger," he said as he turned to Ichigo, drawing a scowl from his comrade, "let's get this over with."

The two warriors disappeared, one with a buzz and the other with a whisper, leaving Aizen alone with his two immediate subordinates.

"You're not gonna tell them about the Adjuchas uprising down there, Captain?" Gin spoke. "That's awful mean of ya."

"Struggle builds character, Gin," Aizen parried, "something a prodigy such as yourself would be unfamiliar with. Besides, those two need to learn to at be tolerant of one another. While I won't deny that a little competition in the ranks is a good thing," the former Captain continued, "there is a fine line between a healthy rivalry and a destructive one. Oh, I'm sorry, Kaname," Sosuke finished, glancing over at his blind comrade, "were you going to say something?"

Tosen shook his head.

"Nothing of major importance, Captain. I was simply wondering when we would begin to seek out the Vasto Lorde; forgive me for indulging my curiosity."

"Do not worry, Kaname," Sosuke answered. "Everything is proceeding according to schedule. If we play our cards right, the Vasto Lorde should come to us. Still, that does not mean we can be lenient in our efforts. Gin, go and scout out more potential recruits, both for the Espada and otherwise. Kaname, please go with him."

The two Soul Reapers voiced their assent and promptly flash-stepped, vanishing at once to leave Aizen alone with his thoughts. Everything was going well, for now, but it concerned him that they hadn't heard so much as a warning shot yet from Soul Society; usually the Captain-Commander was ruthless when it came to reprisals for crimes such as High Treason. Nevertheless, Sosuke mused as he casually sipped on his tea, he would take every moment his enemies were willing to give him to prepare, and make them regret their mercy soon enough.

* * *

"This is some bullshit," Grimmjow said bluntly as the pair trudged through the sand, saving their energy for later in case any unforeseen problems arose. "I could just kill three-quarters of these Adjuchas and tell the rest to fall in line or die, but no, I'm stuck with the brat going on a fucking diplomatic embassy."

"You act like I'm thrilled to be here, Grimmjow," Ichigo shot back. "I'd much rather be asleep, but instead I get to listen to your loud mouth hurling abuse at me like I'm not standing _right over here_!"

Jaegerjaques stopped dead at Kurosaki's raised tone, whirling around to face him and snarling.

"You wanna do something about it, Kurosaki?" he provoked. "Then fight me and prove me wrong."

Ichigo locked eyes with Grimmjow for a few tense heartbeats, before he scowled and turned away.

"Ha, I knew it!" the Arrancar taunted. "You don't have the guts to throw down when you think you might lose, do ya?"

"This has nothing to do with guts, Grimmjow," the orange-haired Soul Reaper replied testily. "We don't have time to waste jabbering at each other like this when we have a mission to accomplish; that's all there is to it. I know I'd beat the shit out of you anyway," he added, his tone turning cocky, "and I have no interest in fighting opponents weaker than me."

"You son of a…" the blue-haired warrior grit out as he began to draw his zanpakuto, only to be cut off by a deep, rumbling laugh.

"Well, isn't this cute," a voice spoke out in the same deep bass, and Aizen's two warriors looked over to find themselves face-to-face with a group of five angry, hungry Adjuchas.

"Aizen thinks he can stop us by sending two of his little minions?" a shriller voice added, belonging to a tall, reedy-looking Hollow. "He can't be serious."

"I dunno," a shorter, stout Adjuchas commented. "That one looks like a Soul Reaper, and the other flamboyant one looks like an Arrancar to me."

"Did you just call me flamboyant, you asswipe?!" Grimmjow growled, causing the pack of Hollows to laugh.

"Looks like the lapdog's got fangs after all, boys," the deep-voiced Adjuchas broke in. "Shall we see how sharp they are? Rafaello, _now_!"

Ichigo and Grimmjow didn't even have time to flash away before the sand underneath their feet liquefied as the thin, reedy Adjuchas stuck his slender hands down into it. The two soldiers struggled, but found themselves unable to break free.

"What the hell is this?" Ichigo shouted, and the short, stout Adjuchas gave a short laugh.

"You just got caught in our little trap, puppy," he sneered. "You might feel confident going up against five of us, but what about five hundred?"

As they were pulled inexorably further into the quicksand, Ichigo looked over at his comrade and spoke.

"In case we don't make it out of here, Grimmjow," he said, "I'm sorry I called you weak."

Grimmjow just chuckled, smirking.

"Don't be such a pussy, kid," he admonished the Soul Reaper, "we'll make it out of here with no problems. Hell, this could even turn out to be a fun trip after all if there really are 500 Adjuchas down there. Oh, and for the record," he finished slyly, "I'm not sorry I called you a brat."

"You motherf—!" Ichigo began to shout, before the pair was sucked under the sand completely and into the dark underworld of Hueco Mundo.

* * *

"So let me make sure I have this right," Captain Ukitake said as he took a liberal pull on his cup of sake. "Are you telling me that you got possessed by one Hollow, absorbed by another, and then Ichigo Kurosaki of all people set you free by using energy from the Hougyoku?"

"That's about it," Kaien replied, draining his own cup and going back for another one. "Why, do you not believe me?"

"Are you kidding?" Jushiro answered. "You couldn't make something like that up. Besides, I've never known you to be a liar, Kaien."

Shiba's eyes lit up in gratitude at his Captain's acceptance, and he bowed his head thankfully before draining his full cup in a single gulp. Rukia's eyes widened in concern at that; she'd never seen Kaien-dono hit the bottle so hard before.

"Are you sure that's a good idea, Kaien-dono?" she asked somewhat nervously. "You might want to take it easy."

"Kuchiki," Kaien replied evenly as he filled up his cup again, "have you ever met my sister?"

Rukia fought back the impulse to hang her head in shame: she had never been able to muster up the courage to go and apologize to Kuukaku Shiba for killing her brother, and that regret still weighed heavily upon her heart. Still, Rukia kept her head high and tone calm as she answered.

"No, Kaien-dono," she replied, "I haven't."

"Then let me tell you something, Kuchiki," Shiba continued, taking another pull of sake. "If I show up out of the blue tonight, wake my kid sister up from a dead sleep and announce that I've more-or-less returned from the dead, I had better not be able to feel my face when she decides to bust my jaw in five places."

"She would do that?!" Rukia asked, mystified. And she thought _her_ family was dysfunctional…

"Kuu's got an odd way of demonstrating affection, let's just leave it at that," Kaien finished, draining the rest of his cup. Rising from his seat, Shiba turned to his former Captain and bowed.

"Captain Ukitake," he began seriously, "I know I'm imposing upon you with this request, but could you give me a chance to prove myself once again as worthy of being your Lieutenant? Nothing would be a greater honor to me than—"

"If you can stay sober and manage the Division efficiently then please, in the name of all that is holy, start tomorrow morning," Jushiro cut him off rapidly. The room was quiet for a heartbeat before all three of the Soul Reapers began laughing; in the midst of all of this turmoil and chaos, it seemed that there was still a place that felt like home.

* * *

Before they had killed so much as twenty Adjuchas, Grimmjow and Ichigo found themselves blindsided by a Hollow with the ability to spin threads of some super-strong material. A few moments later they were bound up in this substance so tightly that they almost lost blood circulation to their legs, and shortly afterwards the warriors found themselves tossed into a dank jail cell.

"You know what, Grimmjow?" Ichigo opined as they lay on the floor of the dark cell, "You're right. This _is_ bullshit."

"So they got you too, huh?" a tired voice floated over, and the two warriors raised their heads to see the silhouettes of two normal-looking Adjuchas bound in the cell across from them.

"Yeah," Ichigo answered, glad to at least have someone to talk to. "And to think, we came in peace. These guys are some bitter bastards."

"No kidding," the other Adjuchas volunteered, his voice energetic despite his current state of captivity. "We were just out doing a favor Nel-sama and these guys come out of nowhere and ambush us, don'tcha know!"

"That's rough," Kurosaki sympathized, before realizing that he hadn't introduced himself.

"My name is Ichigo, by the way," he spoke, "and the guy with me is Grimmjow."

"I'm Pesche," the first Adjuchas broke back in, "and my friend here is Dondochakka." Sighing, Pesche looked through the bars of his cell and out at the massive cavern brimming with wrathful Hollows before he continued, his tone heavy.

"Welcome to hell, fellas."

* * *

**A/N:** Woo, Pesche and Dondochakka! And wherever they are, you know who can't be too far behind. I know it looks like Grimmjow and Ichigo went down a bit too easy, but I had to set this up somehow, so there you go. And besides, they may be imprisoned now, but they're far from defeated. I hope you enjoyed this chapter despite its relative lack of action and abundance of set-up (but you know it's about to get crazy), and **please review**. I'm still in awe of the support this story's received so far… you guys and gals rule.


	5. Hichigo Rising

**Disclaimer: **I do not own Bleach. Tite Kubo does. I do, however, own this story.

**A/N: **Very quickly before we begin, I just want to extend a big, heartfelt 'Thank You!' to everyone who's taken the time to review so far… I truly am stunned by the reception this story's gotten. Thank you all; you're awesome.

**Torn**

**Chapter 5: **Hichigo Rising

* * *

"D'you think Aizen knew about this rebel group, Kurosaki?" Grimmjow asked after a long moment of grudgingly companionable silence, and Ichigo gave a bitter chuckle.

"Knowing him? Absolutely," the Soul Reaper replied. "He's probably sitting up on his throne right now in Las Noches, sipping tea and laughing at how screwed we are."

Jaegerjaques was about to say something else, but the raucous shouts of approaching Adjuchas cut him off.

"How're you maggots doing?" one of them jeered. "Can't use your powers while you're tied up like that, can ya? And with your zanpakuto locked up in our armory, you might as well be dead already. Man, I almost feel bad for you two little shits. You're gonna die down here, and no one will ever even mourn you, let alone try to save you."

"That's where you're wrong, you thugs!" Pesche shouted at the antagonists, prompting them to turn and face him. "When Nel-sama gets wind of what you did, you're gonna regret capturing us!"

One of the more oafish-looking Adjuchas guffawed at the threat.

"'Nel-sama'?" he repeated, incredulous. "Are you telling me that you think Nel Tu, one of the five Vasto Lorde in all of Hueco Mundo, really cares about a couple of whimpering little runts like you? Don't be ridiculous!"

"Just wait and see," Dondochakka persisted. "We'll see who'll be laughing at the end of the day, don'tcha know!"

The Adjuchas proceeded to mercilessly beat up the four prisoners for what they called "insufferable insolence", leaving them each covered in a patchwork of bruises by the time they were finished. Not content to just let his tormentors walk away, however, Ichigo shouted out a question at their backs.

"Why did you even capture Pesche and Dondochakka?" he asked. "They're your own kind, aren't they?"

One of the fiercer, more intelligent-looking Adjuchas spun around at that and glared daggers at the prone Soul Reaper.

"Don't you ever, _ever_ compare out esteemed caste with the likes of those worthless traitors," he seethed. "Do you think we're only fighting against Aizen? The Vasto Lorde sit in their lairs and lord over Hueco Mundo like monarchs, some enforcing their wills upon us while their cronies simply watch the atrocities unfold and call it 'survival of the fittest'.

"We Adjuchas are not such base creatures as that, to be treated like dogs! We have banded together into this army not only to oppose Aizen and his toadies like you, but also to free the Adjuchas from the oppressive yoke of the Vasto Lorde and those who call them their masters."

"And all of those Gillian you harness for firepower?" Grimmjow parried with a snarl. "Did you give them a choice?"

The fierce Adjuchas laughed.

"Those Gillian are nothing more than beasts, incapable of anything other than carrying out our orders. They are the ones whose bones and blood will supply the bricks and mortar for our empire, nothing more."

"Gee, that's not stiflingly hypocritical or anything," Kurosaki grumbled as their tormentors walked away, leaving the captives in relative silence once more.

Jaegerjaques was silent for several moments before he spoke again, his tone guardedly optimistic.

"Pesche," he said, "do you really serve Neliel Tu Oderschvank, or were you bluffing?"

"Why would I bluff about something like that?" he shot back, indignant. "Dondochakka and I have been serving Nel-sama for as long as we've been Adjuchas! Ain't that right, Dondochakka?"

"Sure is, don'tcha know!" the other Adjuchas answered happily, and a small smile began to form on Grimmjow's face as he connected the dots in his head.

"So, if you were to, say, get captured," the blue-eyed Arrancar continued, "she really would come and rescue you?"

"Of course!"

The Espada's smile widened into a victorious grin.

"Well then," he declared confidently, "we have nothing to worry about. We've just got to out of these cells, get back our zanpakuto, start brawling and eventually the cavalry will come storming in. Simple as that."

"Why don't we just wait in here until this 'Neliel' shows up and sets us loose?" Ichigo asked, and Grimmjow's grin turned predatory.

"Because unlike you, Kurosaki," he answered, "I'm not a coward. I don't know about you three," he finished, closing his eyes and concentrating as his muscles tensed, "but I'm sure as hell gonna make sure these bastards pay for humiliating me like this."

"Reiatsu can't get through this stuff, don'tcha know!" Dondochakka said, but Jaegerjaques kept struggling nonetheless.

"Even if I could use it, I wouldn't," he grunted. "I'm gonna tear through this stuff with my bare hands, and then I'm gonna claw out their damn throats!"

Ichigo sighed; Grimmjow was the kind of guy who would blow a hole through a wall to get somewhere even if the open door was right in front of him, just to prove a point. Determined to try the more rational approach, the Soul Reaper closed his eyes and dove into his Spirit World.

* * *

Little did Kurosaki know, he was about to find himself face-to-face with a being one thousand times more primal and vicious than Grimmjow would ever be. Ichigo stepped into the realm of sideways skyscrapers, but Zangetsu was nowhere to be found. Instead, a sneering voice called out in greeting from behind him.

"Yo, partner!" his Hollow doppelganger said, smirking cockily. "I was wondering how long it would take you to show up."

"What the hell are you doing here?" the orange-haired Soul Reaper replied angrily. "Where's Zangetsu?"

"You mean _this_, partner?" the pale being sneered, pulling out a blade that looked like Zangetsu's _shikai_ form, but with the black and silver parts of the blade inverted; Ichigo's jaw all but hit the floor at the sight.

"Where did you get that?!" he demanded furiously, but the Hollow just cackled.

"Silly rabbit," he chided patronizingly, "don't you get it? I _am_ Zangetsu!"

Ichigo was about to reply when his Hollow lunged forward with the feral grace and killing intent of a tiger, slamming his inverted zanpakuto into his counterpart's now-shaking blade.

"What's wrong, partner?" he jibed viciously. "Are you really this hesitant without the old man at your back? God, you really are pathetic!"

Kurosaki felt himself be shoved backwards as malicious crimson flames of reiatsu began to flare around his opponent, making the air around their master hazy from the raw heat and power they radiated. Amazed at the raw force of his Hollow, which seemed to have increased substantially since their last meeting before his duel with Kenpachi, Ichigo forced himself to stay focused. He assumed his stance and readied his blade…

Only to find that it had been shorn clean in half, and he was holding the blunt end.

"What's with the ridiculous face, partner?" the pale warrior shouted over to him. "Why don't you call out to the Old Man for help like last time!?"

Kurosaki hated the thought of listening to his maniacal counterpart, but at this point he was willing to try anything.

"Are you really, though, Ichigo?" his Hollow's voice broke in, astonishingly calm and rational as he read Ichigo's thoughts to the letter. "If that was really the case, instead of clinging to your pathetic delusion you would have opened your eyes to the truth by now."

"Which is?" Ichigo growled back, defiant to the end.

"Zangetsu is **dead**, you idiot!" the pale warrior shouted, his reiatsu spiking dangerously as the Soul Reaper's brown eyes widened in shock.

"What?"

"When I took the reins back on Soukyoku Hill, Ichigo," the Hollow explained, "you had a choice to make. Turn to Zangetsu for strength, or succumb to your rage and turn to me. By refusing to challenge me then, you slammed the nail into the Old Man's coffin with your own instinct!"

"Liar!" Kurosaki shouted, charging forward despite his broken sword. Dropping his head and sighing, the Hollow raised his inverted blade and stabbed Ichigo clean through the chest without even looking at him; the whole motion was executed as effortlessly as drawing breath.

"Don't you get it, Ichigo?" the pale warrior hissed, turning his head up and locking his bright yellow eyes on his counterpart's now-dulling brown ones. "Every time you pulled on the Hougyoku for your power, you put cracks in the barrier separating us. It wasn't subjugating me at all; the reason I shut up was because I couldn't speak while I was being pulled deeper into your soul, _brother_!"

Ichigo reeled at the revelation, or he would have reeled if he wasn't currently impaled on a zanpakuto. Had Aizen really played him like that much of a fool…?

"Aizen steered events to the outcome that suited him the most, nothing more," the Hollow answered coldly, intuiting his counterpart's thoughts once again with chilling accuracy. "You chose this road, Ichigo; you alone had the power to make a choice concerning your soul, and you chose me. Because let's face it," the Hollow said slyly as his voice dropped its contemplative calm, "you and I are much more alike than you ever want to admit to yourself: at the end of the day, Ichigo, you don't fight to protect anyone. You fight to get stronger and stronger so that you can cut down anyone who stands in your way, nothing more."

The orange-haired Soul Reaper was cowed into silence by the assault of plain, unvarnished truth. For the first time since the duel began, Ichigo shut up and took a long, hard look at himself. Here he was, defeated and broken, run through with a sword that wasn't even his own.

Was his Hollow right? Why _had_ he given the pale warrior control subconsciously, when he could have wrestled it back like he had earlier against Byakuya? It clearly wasn't because he wanted to protect Renji and Rukia, because if that had been the case he wouldn't have attacked them so brutally before turning on Aizen.

No, he had submitted to the Hollow inside of him for one reason: because he had needed strength beyond what Zangetsu could give him to be able to defeat Aizen. Defeating his enemy was all that had mattered. It was all that had ever mattered.

"He finally gets it," the Hollow crowed, relieved. "It's about damn time, brother; I was getting tired of just lying around and flailing like a dying fish while you're stuck in this cell."

"Just answer one question, Hollow," Ichigo said gravely. "If I accept your power, will we be able to defeat Aizen?"

"Not yet," the pale warrior replied, his voice hungry. "But soon. If you truly learn to trust in me, brother, no force in the universe will be able to stand against us. What I _can_ do right now is get us out of these damn restraints, though," the Hollow continued, "and I'd say that's a good place to start."

In a way, Kurosaki found that being faced with a single, absolute path was liberating. No more regrets; life was too short for those. He was going to get stronger. He was going to kill Aizen. And when the dust had settled, he was going to return to Rukia and apologize for being such a stubborn idiot and leaving her in the first place.

"I'm glad you have your fucking five year plan thought out, Ichigo," the Hollow broke in with a growl, "but we have somewhere to be."

The orange-haired Soul Reaper looked at his yellow-eyed doppelganger in a new light then, seeing him for the first time as an ally rather than a hindrance.

"You know," he said, "I never thought I'd say this to you, and especially not at a time like this, but thank you, Hollow."

The pale warrior's smirk turned into something approaching an actual smile.

"It's not 'Hollow'," he answered. "It's Hichigo."

* * *

Grimmjow was making himself blue in the face trying to break through his bonds when he was suddenly blindsided by a spike in reiatsu so powerful that the shockwave alone was enough to launch his body through the air and slam it into the nearby wall. Not only that, but the substance that had previously restrained him so completely had been cut to shreds like cloth. Jaegerjaques' ears were still ringing and his vision was still clearing up when a voice reached him that sounded like Ichigo's, but with none of the uncertainty it usually held and quintuple the killing intent.

"What the hell are you doing laying down there like a rag-doll, Grimmjow? I thought you wanted to rip some throats out."

The Espada blinked, saw the figure in front of him, and then blinked a few more times to make sure he wasn't hallucinating. Ichigo's eyes had turned yellow and black, and white stripes ran across the left side of his face like tribal war paint. He wasn't a Hollow, but his reiatsu was far too twisted and dense for a Soul Reaper.

"What the hell are you?" Grimmjow asked in awe as he rose to his feet, and his comrade just smirked.

"That's a damn good question," Kurosaki answered. "To be honest, I'm not really sure myself. For now, though," Ichigo finished, his eyes narrowing as his voice gained an edge sharper than any zanpakuto, "let's just settle on bloodthirsty."

After ripping the bars to their cell open with his bare hands and liberating Dondochakka and Pesche, the transformed warrior flashed away before returning a few moments later. His arms were streaked with black blood that was not his own, and in his hands were clutched both Pantera and a now-inverted Zangetsu. After tossing Jaegerjaques his zanpakuto, Kurosaki turned his attention to the shocked, but now-rallying and increasingly furious Adjuchas.

"I don't know how long this form is going to hold up, Grimmjow," Ichigo told the Arrancar as they advanced, matching berserker grins on their faces,

"So let's make this quick."

* * *

**A/N: **Sorry for the second consecutive cliffy and lack of Soul Society this chapter, but Hichigo took up more screentime than I thought he would. I'm already working on Chapter 6, though, and I can promise you that the brawling will commence in Hueco Mundo, the planning will be underway in Soul Society and a certain Vasto Lorde will make an appearance. I hope you enjoyed it, and as always, **please review**.


	6. The Will to Kill

**Disclaimer: **I do not own Bleach, or any of its characters. I do, however, own this story.

**Torn**

**Chapter 6: **The Will to Kill

* * *

Gin Ichimaru liked to consider himself a patient person. He could sit, wait and scheme with the best of them; his role in Captain Aizen's mutiny had proved that. Right now, however, Gin was starting to get angry. So far, every Hollow that he and Tosen had crossed paths with had either fought with them and got turned into a corpse, or had refused to help Aizen construct his new world order and got turned into a corpse. The only thing the two former Captains were leaving in their wake was a trail of dead, and not the horde of new conscripts that would have been infinitely preferable.

"I really hope the next one we run in'ta ain't a Vasto Lorde," the garnet-eyed Soul Reaper grumbled, "because I'm gonna kill the next living thing I see."

"Need I remind you how counter-productive such a course of action would be, Gin?" Kaname replied evenly. "If we indulged your bloodlust whenever it flared, Hueco Mundo would be a barren waste long before the Espada were completed, let alone the rest of Aizen-sama's army."

"Killjoy," the silver-haired former Captain huffed as the duo traveled on, seemingly oblivious to the six-armed Hollow that had been stalking them for some time now, hiding his reiatsu. Nnoitra Jiruga's eyes flashed with an almost rabid glee: for the first time in far too long, he had found an opponent capable of withstanding his full strength.

This was going to be fun.

* * *

Far below the surface of Hueco Mundo, meanwhile, several Adjuchas were discovering a new definition of the word 'agony'. Wanting to prolong the bloodbath as long as possible, Grimmjow had held back and refrained from releasing his zanpakuto. The raging force of nature that was Ichigo Kurosaki couldn't have cared less about controlling himself, though, and was carving swathes of destruction through his enemies with reckless abandon.

"What's the matter, Grimmjow?" he jibed as the black edge of his zanpakuto ripped another Hollow in half. "Can't keep up with me?"

The Espada's eyes narrowed furiously; he'd never backed down from a challenge before in his life, and he sure as hell wasn't going to back down from one issued by this punk. Noticing a slight hitch in the Soul Reaper's next killing blow, the blue-eyed Arrancar smirked.

"You look like you're getting tired, Kurosaki," Grimmjow shot back, only to be met with a smirk that mirrored his own.

"I'm just giving you a chance to catch up," the Soul Reaper parried. "You look like you need it!"

That was it. This kid had pushed him far enough. Nobody mocked Grimmjow Jaegerjaques and got away with it, not even someone with as much raw power as Ichigo. Turning his zanpakuto so that the flat of the blade was facing him, the Espada put his palm on it and spoke.

"Grind, Pantera!"

Kurosaki felt the spike of power behind him and smiled; he had been trying to goad Grimmjow into fighting at full strength this whole time, and the Espada had finally gotten over himself. Now they could really start wreaking havoc on these vermin, and the faster they got that done the sooner they could get the hell out of here. Dark, damp and decaying underground forests teeming with Hollows had never been on Ichigo's list of favorite places to spend time in, after all.

The battle soon shifted from a brawl into something approaching a slaughter in Ichigo and Grimmjow's favor, which was only compounded by Pesche and Dondochakka lending a hand to repay the orange-haired Soul Reaper for setting them free. The air was almost tangible with reiatsu at one point, so many _bala_ and _cero _had been released. Just as the Adjuchas' ranks were about to fold completely, though, a thunderous voice boomed throughout the cavern and exhorted the battered Hollows.

"Hold the line, you whelps! Are you really struggling this much against a half-breed maggot and a turncoat Arrancar who sullies the name of the honorable Espada? What the hell is wrong with you!?"

Jaegerjaques and Kurosaki found their previously un-impeded charge halted by a menacing wave of reiatsu that seemed to radiate from deep within the cavern. There was a buzz of _sonido_ a heartbeat later, and suddenly the menacing wave became far more immediate and malicious as a figure appeared in front of Aizen's two warriors. It was a male Arrancar, with dark orange eyes, a mask fragment that covered his right upper-arm like a piece of armor and a zanpakuto that resembled an _odachi_ in a black sheath at his hip.

"Who the fuck are you?" Grimmjow snarled bluntly, and the Arrancar merely chuckled derisively.

"I, you turncoat, am Kira Irukon. True holder of the title of Fifth Espada," he continued, his dark orange eyes gleaming with killing intent,

"And your appointed executioner for this evening."

* * *

Gin felt the reiatsu unveil itself behind him at last and his smile widened; he had been wondering how long that Hollow was going to wait before making a move. Turning his head back over his shoulder, Ichimaru opened a single, blood-red eye and spoke.

"Looks like our tail's decided ta start wagging after all, Kaname," he said almost flippantly, and Tosen nodded gravely as he began to draw Suzumushi. He was swiftly stopped by a wiry hand grasping his wrist, and his sightless eyes glanced over to regard his comrade questioningly.

"I'll take care of this," Ichimaru explained casually, unsheathing Shinso. "After all, it's clear this guy wants me to; his killing intent's been boring in'ta my back this entire time."

The Hollow in question stepped fully out into the light, his yellow eyes pointed slits behind his mask. His six, razor-sharp arms and lanky, yet tense and muscled frame all combined to give the Hollow the appearance of a praying mantis forged in the pits of Hell.

"I take it you must be Gin Ichimaru, one of Aizen's right-hand men," the Hollow hissed out.

"That's right," Gin replied cordially. "Why do ya ask?"

"To be honest, I'm kind of considering signing up; I've always been a supporter of carnage in all of its various forms, after all," Nnoitra explained. "But before I do, I wanna make sure the people who serve under your master aren't all worthless pieces of trash."

Gin's smile widened, his teeth appearing from behind his thin lips like a fox baring its fangs.

"Ooh, I _like_ this one, Kaname," he said, subtly moving Shinso into attack position. "Well, Hollow," the silver-haired Soul Reaper continued as the edge in his tone became more and more pronounced, "I'd be more than happy ta show you my strength, if that's what it'll take to convince ya to join us. Just try to do one thing for me."

"Oh?" Jiruga's voice was snide and insincere as his many arms readied them for battle. "And what would that be, Soul Reaper?"

Ichimaru's predatory grin widened.

"Don't hold back. Shoot to kill, Shinso."

It took all six of Nnoitra's arms to block the frighteningly fast blade, but his defense held. One of Gin's eyebrows rose quizzically as he retracted his zanpakuto for the moment.

"Didn't try ta dodge that attack, huh?" he mused. "That was pretty gutsy of ya, Hollow. You got a name?"

"Nnoitra Jiruga," the Hollow answered acidly, tensing for a strike of his own as his voice gradually rose, "and that wimpy little wakizashi of yours can't kill me, Soul Reaper!"

"Really?" Gin mused half to himself as Nnoitra charged. "Prove it."

Shinso's blade screamed forward as Ichimaru released it without calling out its name, causing Nnoitra to stop his charge. The Hollow stood his ground, not even flinching as the blade pierced right through his chest and went clean out the other side. The silver-haired Soul Reaper's smirk vanished in his surprise; he had thought Jiruga had been bluffing.

"Huh," he grunted, beginning to retract Shinso from the exit wound. "Well, this is awkward."

"You're taking the blame for squandering this opportunity, Gin," Tosen stated plainly, "not me."

Ichimaru was about to reply when his eyes opened in shock as Shinso stopped retracting. Turning his gaze back to face the Hollow he was sure he had killed, the former Captain was quite surprised to see Nniotra clutching the blade of the zanpakuto that had pierced him only seconds ago. As the Soul Reaper watched in silence, the wound in Nnoitra's chest closed up before Gin's eyes.

"Like I said," Jiruga growled, "this pathetic zanpakuto of yours can't kill me, Gin Ichimaru!"

"Well, well," the red-eyed Soul Reaper said, his eyes gleaming like rubies, "it looks like you're going to be fun after all."

* * *

Ichigo and Grimmjow each appraised this Arrancar who had called himself the Fifth Espada, looking for weaknesses and finding none.

"Well, Kurosaki," Jaegerjaques said after a moment's pause, "it looks like the puppet master's done just pulling the strings."

"Yeah," the Soul Reaper replied, "that it does. I thought it would have taken someone like this to rope together so many Adjuchas." Tensing as he readied his zanpakuto, Ichigo hesitated and glanced over at his comrade. "Should I handle him," he asked, "or do you want to do the honors? I'd feel bad if I had all the fun."

Grimmjow grinned widely, stepping forward to engage Kira. Before he could attack, though, a new presence entered the cavernous underground. The late arrival was heralded by a reiatsu so potent it made Grimmjow fall to one knee and made the ex-Fifth Espada kneel down completely, almost hunching over onto all fours. Ichigo alone stayed on his feet, but the immense pressure of the reiatsu was causing his knees to buckle as if he'd suddenly turned into a terrified little kid. To add to the Soul Reaper's concerns, the power Hichigo had bestowed upon him was fluctuating more and more rapidly by the second; a surefire sign that it was about to burn out. Right when his legs were about to give way, Kurosaki felt the pressure lift completely. Far from vanishing, however, the previously-overwhelming power morphed into a much calmer, more menacing and far more concentrated reiatsu that was drawing closer and closer by the moment.

"Which one of you three is responsible for this?" a voice spoke out suddenly, one that oddly reminded Ichigo of Captain Unohana's. It was seemingly placid, but with an undercurrent that spoke of terrible power simmering just below the surface. Looking over, the orange-haired Soul Reaper saw the form that possessed both the terrifyingly potent reiatsu and the calm, steely voice. Standing in the midst of such power, all Ichigo could do was stare in shock and awe.

The Hollow looked like something he'd only seen before in books on mythological creatures: the one the Greeks called a Centaur. The Hollow's lower half was not that of a horse, however, but rather an antelope, grayish-white in color. Its upper half was light green and resembled a human torso, but lacking any features to distinguish it as male or female. This was to be expected, though; Hollows always appeared genderless before becoming Arrancar.

The stillness of the air that had followed the Hollow's question was broken by the voices of Pesche and Dondochakka, which cried out in joyful, if discordant unison.

"Nel-sama!"

Ichigo's now-brown eyes shined with the subtle glow of comprehension: this was Neliel Tu Oderschvank, one of the precious few Vasto Lorde in all of Hueco Mundo. He could only hope that Dondochakka and Pesche vouched for him and Grimmjow, or they would be giblets on the floor very shortly. Neliel looked over at the two underlings, and Ichigo could see that the Vasto Lorde's mask had curved horns on the top of it.

"Are you two all right?" Neliel asked, with a tone that almost sounded concerned, or at least as close to concerned as a normal Hollow could sound. Pesche stepped forward and opened his mouth to speak, while Kurosaki's life began to flash in front of his eyes.

"Yes, Nel-sama, we are fine," the slim Adjuchas replied. "Nothing worse than a few cuts and bruises. That one over there set us free, actually," he continued, pointing over to Ichigo as Neliel's eyes followed the gesture. Oderschvank and the Soul Reaper locked eyes, and Ichigo felt Hichigo tilt his head in begrudging deference while simultaneously grumble something about needing to eventually surpass the Vasto Lorde. This Hollow was much stronger than Ichigo could hope to be at the moment, and it made no effort to conceal the fact.

"You are curious, child," Neliel spoke at last, the voice emerging now as an odd blend of whimsy and assurance, no longer threatening. "Your reiatsu speaks to me neither as a Soul Reaper's does, nor a Hollow's, but something… else. What is your name?"

"Ichigo Kurosaki," the Soul Reaper replied hesitantly, and Neliel's eyes widened the slightest bit before quickly returning to normal.

"I see," the Vasto Lorde said. "That makes sense."

Before Ichigo could ask what 'made sense' about his name being what it was, Neliel had already turned around and was trotting over towards Pesche and Dondochakka. Shrugging, Ichigo decided to turn around and see how Grimmjow was reacting to having been slammed by such a powerful reiatsu.

As it turned out, that decision wound up saving Neliel's life.

Kira Irukon, the ex-Fifth Espada, had not been killed or even knocked out by the reiatsu surge that had followed Neliel's appearance. Kira had been hiding his reiatsu thanks to the special ability granted to him as an Arrancar; not only had he already incapacitated Grimmjow, who had still been dazed and winded at the time, but the ex-Espada was now charging up an orange Gran Rey Cero in his right hand. The Vasto Lorde was too preoccupied by concern for its underlings to notice, and Ichigo felt a knot of dread rise up from the pit of his stomach as he saw the inevitable assassination unfold in front of him.

But no, it wasn't inevitable; far from it. Ichigo could stop it, if he wanted to. But did he want to? He was a Soul Reaper, and Neliel was a Hollow. Was there any guarantee that Oderschvank wouldn't reward his kindness with a _bala_ through the chest? But then Kurosaki saw the orange _cero_ get released, and the look of horror in Neliel's eyes as the Vasto Lorde realized it wouldn't be able to escape in time. Cursing the fact that his mother had raised him to be such a nice kid, Ichigo dove in front of the devastating attack and poured as much power into defending himself from it as he could.

The Soul Reaper's barrier held for all of two seconds before shattering, and then his world was nothing but white-hot spikes of pain. These were soon followed by an oddly soothing feeling as tendrils of oblivion wrapped around him like a blanket, carrying him gently off to sleep.

* * *

The Captain's Meeting in the First Division headquarters was understandably somber: the elite of Soul Society were still struggling to get over the shock of Aizen's betrayal, and some had been hit harder than others. Komamura had to be dragged out of his quarters by his Lieutenant, and Shunsui looked like he'd just crawled out of a bottle of sake, still beating himself up for that one night so many years ago when he might have been able to prevent his former Lieutenant, Lisa Yadomaru, from… but that was another sad story altogether.

"Our course of action has never been clearer," Yamamoto intoned gravely. "We will take the time to bolster our forces as much as is needed, and then an assault will be mounted directly on Hueco Mundo. Each of the four men that defected on that fateful day will be dealt with as High Traitors and Hollow-sympathizers. Your orders are to kill them on sight!"

There was a murmur of assent around the room, but it was more restrained in some parts than in others. Ukitake's misgivings about the circumstances surrounding Ichigo Kurosaki's defection still hung over him like a shroud, and nothing would dispel them. There was no question that Aizen, Ichimaru and Tosen deserved to be punished for their crimes, but what crime had Ichigo committed, other than being in the wrong place at the wrong time and being forced to reach out to the wrong people for help?

One of Jushiro's subordinates was trying to answer that question herself at the same time. Instead of going to sleep that night with a peaceful, reconciled heart, however, Rukia fell into a fitful, dreamless slumber as pieces of her broken heart littered the floor.

* * *

**A/N: **So there you have it, the grand entrance of Neliel, Nnoitra as a Hollow and the fateful verdict of the stubborn old codger known as Yamamoto.

Before you start asking me why I made Nel 'gender-less' in this chapter, it's so that I can show certain male characters reacting in dumb shock next chapter when she turns into a 'she'.

I hope this chapter was fun to read; it felt rougher in parts while I was writing it than some of my previous chapters, but this should be the only installment where that's the case for a while. Let me know what you thought by dropping a **review**, and come back next chapter for the first appearance of Neliel as an Arrancar, the conclusion of Gin's duel with Nnoitra and some Soul Society goodness as well.


	7. Resolve

**Disclaimer: **I do not own Bleach, or any of its characters. I do, however, own this story.

**Torn**

**Chapter 7:** Resolve

* * *

"Welcome back, Grimmjow," Aizen said smoothly, his chin resting on his knuckles almost lazily as he sat up in his throne. "I see you've brought a guest," he continued, his eyes drifting over to the Hollow currently holding Ichigo's limp form in its arms. "To what do I owe this unexpected pleasure, Neliel Tu Oderschvank?"

"You owe me nothing, nor I anything to you," the Vasto Lorde replied evenly, stepping forward with a soft click as its hooves moved over the cool marble floor. "This boy saved my life, and I merely intend to return the favor. If you wish me to become one of your so-called Espada, Soul Reaper," Neliel finished, yellow eyes narrowing,

"I require your word."

Aizen's eyes widened at the brazen display of audacity, but it was more out of amusement than shock or anger.

"Oh, really?" he parried. "What word would you have me give?"

"The promise that you will allow Dondochakka and Pesche to become Arrancar as well and serve under me," the Vasto Lorde answered. "And, if I am to fall in battle, I desire the guarantee that they will be provided for; not thrown away like so many others you have disposed of one their usefulness has run its course."

The corner of Sosuke's mouth twitched up into the barest of smirks.

"Very well," he assented. "That price is a light one to pay for such a valuable commodity as yourself. Come," the Soul Reaper said, flash-stepping down from his throne, "let us see your true face. Grimmjow," Aizen added, looking over his shoulder as he walked away, "get Ichigo to the infirmary, now; I won't have one of my most prized soldiers dying on account of such a foolish act of self-sacrifice."

Jaegerjaques nodded and accepted the still-unconscious body of his comrade from Neliel, disappearing with a buzz. As the Vasto Lorde followed calmly in the wake of the man soon to become its master, a single thought was running through the Hollow's mind.

_I am not swearing loyalty to you, Sosuke Aizen, but to the one who saved my life. If the day comes when he needs my aid, I _will_ help him: even if it means crossing you._

* * *

Gin Ichimaru stood across from the deceptively durable Adjuchas who called himself Nnoitra Jiruga, a rare frown on his face as a thin trickle of blood ran down his cheek from a cut that had opened up right along his cheekbone.

"Whatsa matter, Soul Reaper?" Nnoitra crowed. "did I hurt your delicate little feelings when I slashed your face up?"

The former Captain's frown quickly flowed back into a wide smile, the oddly menacing gesture sending a shiver down Jiruga's spine.

"Not at all, Jiruga-kun," Ichimaru replied, his tongue leaving its resting place briefly to catch a drop of blood on its tip. "I was just feeling bad about lettin' ya get your hopes up before I crush you. Although I will give ya some credit," the Soul Reaper finished, his voice turning deadly serious,

"It's been a long, long time since I last tasted my own blood."

Nnoitra barely had enough time to raise his arms in defense before Gin was upon him, Shinso moving so furiously that it seemed as though Ichimaru was fighting with twenty blades instead of one. Dodging frantically as he skittered back on his heels, Jiruga cursed bitterly as three of his six arms were cut off without Gin even calling out his _shikai_.

"Whatsa matter, Hollow-kun?" Ichimaru taunted, his red eyes flashing as he shoved Nnoitra's insult back in his face. "If you're dodging me, that means I might be able ta kill you if I put enough holes inta this body a your's. And that would make you a liar, now wouldn't it, Hollow-kun?"

"Damn you," the Adjuchas hissed. "Like I said, your puny wakizashi can't kill me!"

Gin laughed, severing Jiruga's other three arms before stabbing Shinso through his chest once again and putting his free hand at Nnoitra's throat, barely holding a full-power _soukatsui_ in check.

"I gotta say, I thought someone like you would'a been better at choosing their words, Nnoitra-kun," Ichimaru said slyly. "It ain't that my zanpakuto here can't kill ya, it's simply that it _won't_, because I'm not here to do that. I'm here ta show you just how weak you are, and how much power you stand ta gain by joining us. So what's it gonna be, Jiruga-kun?"

Spitting blood down on the ground at the Soul Reaper's feet, Nnoitra narrowed his yellow eyes and replied.

"I'm in," he growled, adding in his head, _and one day I'm gonna rip your heart out, you bastard._

* * *

Tosen and Gin arrived in time to see Neliel's transformation into the newest Espada, alongside Aizen, Dordonii, Thunderwitch, Mosqueda and Grimmjow, who had left Ichigo in the care of Las Noches' medical staff before arriving. Nnoitra waited in the shadows for his turn with the Hougyoku, murder still shining in his eyes as he nursed his wounded ego.

Aizen dropped the orb into its small glass housing cube and began to pour power into it, while Neliel's restrained form waited indifferently. There was a blinding flash of light as the Hougyoku was brought to full power for an instant, and in the aftermath the binding keeping Neliel immobile fell away to reveal her human, decidedly female form. Mist still wrapped most of her lower half in a shroud, but the fact remained that the transformation had left Neliel's upper half decidedly exposed. Only a few strategically placed waves of light green hair covered her bosom, and not much else above the waist was left to the imagination. Needless to say, chaos soon erupted amongst the men in the room.

Grimmjow's eyes all but popped out of his head as his jaw hit the floor, Mosqueda's nose bypassed bleeding and when right into full-on hemorrhage mode, Dordonii began rhapsodizing the "celestial senorita" and even Gin, who was normally unfazed by this sort of thing, had a substantial blush dusting his cheeks. Aizen and Tosen were the only males that seemed wholly unmoved; Tosen because he couldn't see the beauty before him and Aizen because his mind was full of, well, whatever twisted plot he was thinking up at the time. Neliel took a moment to get used to her new form before turning around and beginning to walk out of the room towards the clothing closets, using her exit as an opportunity to tease the blue-eyed, stunned Espada. Walking to right beside him, Neliel put her mouth right near Grimmjow's ear and spoke.

"You should close your mouth, cowboy," she whispered sultrily. "Something might fly in."

Jaegerjaques' pupils dilated as he fell over, drawing an amused chuckle from the female Arrancar as she strode from the room and left a trail of thunderstruck men in her wake.

* * *

Kaien Shiba was standing on a knoll, basking in the sunrise and looking meditatively at his own memorial gravestone, when he felt a familiar presence walk up behind him.

"What brings you here so early, Kuchiki?" the Lieutenant asked as casually as he could. "Usually you don't get up until at least a few hours from now, if I remember right."

"I can make exceptions, Kaien-dono," Rukia said, her voice tightly controlled. "I needed to ask a favor of you, and I wanted to catch you before the day got too busy."

"Shoot," Shiba said nonchalantly, even as his green eyes narrowed ever so slightly in suspicion: he knew this girl's moods like the back of his hand, and something wasn't right.

"I need you to train me," Kuchiki insisted, and Kaien realized what was going on in his protégé's head the moment a heartsick tone seeped through into her plea. Sighing, he turned his gaze back towards the sunrise.

"This is about that Kurosaki kid, isn't it?" he asked. "Ichigo. Am I right?"

Rukia tried to deny it, but the baffled look on her face combined with the searching gaze Kaien-dono was giving her soundly defeated that plan. Gritting her teeth, the violet-eyed Soul Reaper gave a scathing reply.

"He's irrelevant," she half-hissed, and was about to continue when she felt Kaien-dono's hand gently grip her shoulder in a way that was a thousand times more arresting than a command from her brother.

"Kuchiki, look at me," Shiba said, all of the normal warmth frozen from his voice. At first Rukia tried to look away petulantly, but found her eyes drawn inexorably back to the stoic face of her mentor.

"I know exactly what you're feeling right now, Rukia," he continued, softer this time, and the younger Soul Reaper's eyes widened in shock: that was the first time he had ever called her by her first name.

"When I saw Miyako the first time after she had been possessed by that Hollow," Kaien spoke, his voice more vulnerable than Rukia had ever heard it before, "I felt like my heart was being torn out of my chest. I knew that I was going to have to be the one to free her from that torment, and I also knew that I would have to harden my heart to be able to perform that fatal sword-blow without breaking down. It was excruciating, Rukia; being trapped in a Hollow's body for years doesn't even begin to compare to that agony."

"Kaien-dono…" Kuchiki couldn't keep from uttering softly, but the Lieutenant was having none of his subordinate's pity and pressed on.

"But you have something I never had, Rukia: hope. Ichigo isn't lost forever, and I could see the pain in his eyes when he left me his message for you."

"What did he say?" Rukia asked, her voice rising suddenly. Kaien would have smiled at the change in the girl's demeanor, but that gesture had no place here.

"He said that he was sorry," Shiba related, almost wincing at the way Rukia seemed to deflate in front of his eyes, "but I'd be willing to bet the entire fortune of your clan that he was about to say 'Tell her that I love her.'"

Kuchiki's eyes flashed brighter than amethysts for a few heartbeats, and her mouth showed all the signs of almost breaking out into a preposterous grin before she reined herself back in.

"I'll train you, Kuchiki," Kaien resumed, the vulnerability in his voice gone as suddenly as it had come, "but you have to promise me that your resolve will not harden your heart beyond the point of forgiving him. Whatever he did, I'm convinced he did it out of concern for you; sever your ties with him now, and he has nothing left."

The green-eyed Lieutenant was almost knocked over by the force of Rukia's sudden hug, and felt the front of his uniform becoming slightly damp from the tears that the Kuchiki princess was shedding.

"Thank you, Kaien-dono," he heard, and this time Shiba did smile at the cutely-muffled voice.

"Don't mention it, Kuchiki. I'm on your side, remember? 'Until death and beyond', like I always said: that's what the Thirteenth Division is all about."

Rukia broke out of the embrace and blinked, the tears in her eyes vanishing instantly. They were replaced by an inner-glow, a light that spoke of the resolve to come to the aid of someone you cared about more than yourself.

The resolve to save a loved one from pain.

Smirking, Kaien drew his zanpakuto.

"Shall we get started, Kuchiki?"

The violet-eyed Soul Reaper smirked in kind, drawing her own sword.

"If you think you can handle it, Kaien-dono."

Shiba's laugh rang louder than their blades as the comrades sparred, their wounded hearts mending slightly with each clash of steel.

* * *

Neliel had changed into a white Espada uniform, and was now standing hesitantly at the threshold of the door to Ichigo's convalescing room. She didn't know how she would react upon seeing Ichigo wounded as badly as he probably was; the Espada could already feel some human emotions reemerging following her transformation into an Arrancar, and the last thing Nel wanted was to give that sexist, one-eyed lecher Nnoitra any more ammunition. It had been all of one hour since his induction into the Espada, and he had already slung at least twenty catcalls her way. And although Gin had been there to diffuse the tension before anything got serious, Jiruga still gave her the creeps, big time.

But Nel was an Espada now; she had to lead by example, and what kind of example would she be setting by refusing to confront her fear? Swallowing hard, Neliel stepped into the room and part of her newborn heart broke at the sight that awaited her.

Ichigo's body was covered in burns, scars and bruises, and he had a cloth patch over one of his eyes. The green-haired woman raised a hand to her slightly-open mouth and began to walk solicitously over to the orange-haired Soul Reaper's side, only to be cut off by a voice that sounded much more strained than it normally did.

"He'll be all right."

Neliel's gaze shifted over to the corner of the room, where Grimmjow sat hunched over in a chair. Judging by bags forming under his eyes, the Espada had been there for a while.

"He has to be," Jaegerjaques continued, getting up and tacitly offering his seat to Nel. "If he doesn't get better, I'm going to find his soul in the Human World and kill him myself. I need a sparring partner, you asshole," he finished, speaking to Ichigo now, before vanishing with a buzz.

Neliel thought she heard a soft, broken chuckle from the bedridden boy, but that might have just been hope playing a trick on her. Picking up the chair from the corner of the room, she moved it over to the head of Ichigo's bedside and sat down, prepared to stay there as long as she had to so that she could thank him for what he'd done when he woke up. Letting her newfound emotional instinct guide her, the Arrancar slipped her hand under Ichigo's and held it gently, trying to will him back to health.

"I'll never let you look this way again, Ichigo," she said softly. "I promise."

The hand in her grip tensed ever-so-slightly around her own, and Neliel smiled.

* * *

**A/N:** In case any of you were wondering, no, this story is not going to have a Grimm/Nel pairing in it, nor an Ichigo/Nel pairing. Neliel and Ichigo's relationship is still going to be deep, but also very platonic, in a mother/son kind of way.

And yes, Grimmjow _will_ be paired with someone in this story, but not Neliel. If you really, really want to know ahead of time who it's going to be, read the AU story "**The Lady Is A Tramp**" by the incredibly talented **Philyra**, which also has this pairing in it. It's part of her amazingly fun-to-read "Strictly Ballroom" series and contains, hands-down, the best depiction of any Grimmjow pairing I have ever read. It's awesome, has the perfect balance of romance, drama, and humor, and also contains romantically-charged dancing for good measure. Seriously though, read it. I can't praise it enough (end surprise bump, because I've all but run out of superlatives).

Oh, and as always, **please review!**


	8. Surge

**Disclaimer:** I do not own Bleach, or any of its characters. I do, however, own this story

**A/N: **Before we begin, a small announcement. This story has over 100 reviews! Huzzah! This is unreal, and I wanted to take a moment to extend a hearty 'thank you' to each and every person who's taken the time to read this story and then shown enough interest to leave a review. Also, a Special Jury Prize goes out to FrozenChaos, who left the 100th review. Enjoy that, buddy.

**Torn**

**Chapter 8: **Surge

* * *

Neliel kept her promise to Ichigo, waiting by his bedside and only taking breaks for meals, mandatory missions and swapping out the orange-haired Soul Reaper's medicine bags. A few weeks passed, until the pale-golden-eyed Espada was jolted out of a daydream by a soft, pained chuckle.

"You look worse than I do, Neliel," Ichigo said, his voice strained. "Do you want to switch places?"

The Espada gave a small, rueful laugh at the weak attempt at humor, before letting go of her charge's hand and rising.

"Good to see you're awake, Ichigo," Nel said, making no effort to hide the relief in her voice. "I'll go tell Zommari to get up and make you some dinner; it's about time the rookie actually _did_ something around here, and he makes a surprisingly good bowl of miso soup."

"Zommari?" Kurosaki asked, confused. "Whossat?" The brown-eyed young man broke down into a coughing fit shortly after finishing his question, and the Espada shook her head exasperatedly as she put the back of one of her palms on Ichigo's forehead; this allowed her to check his temperature and restrain him simultaneously.

"Shh, don't make too many sudden movements," Nel ordered. "Those poor nurses worked themselves to the bone healing you up, and I'd hate to tell them you went and reopened all of your wounds."

Rather than shoot back some witty reply like she thought he would, Ichigo was oddly silent. Looking over, Neliel saw that the young Soul Reaper was giving her an atypically searching look.

"You remind me of my mother," he said, before stifling a yawn and drifting slowly off to sleep. "I miss her…"

Nel couldn't completely hide the sad smile that appeared on her face just then; clearly this kid had been though a lot, but if there was one thing he had held on to through all of his trials, it was his innocence. As she gently brushed a stray bunch of hair out of the sleeping Soul Reaper's eyes, the Espada sighed.

"You're a good kid, Ichigo," she whispered, "and for that I'm sorry. This place has no room for people like you, and I can only hope that you can carve one out with your strength before it destroys you."

* * *

The Third Espada walked calmly out into the main room of Las Noches and took her seat next to a pale-skinned, green-eyed Arracar with short, dark hair half-covered by a mask fragment.

"How's he doing?" Grimmjow broke in from across the table, and Neliel shrugged.

"He's awake, and probably not going to stay lying down for long, but that's all I can say for right now."

"It's about damn time," a large, dark-skinned Arrancar spoke up from down near the other end of the table. "I've been waiting to see what this shrimp Soul Reaper's capable of for a while."

"I would not be so eager to cross blades with him, Yammy," the pale Espada next to Nel spoke out drolly. "Unless you desire to make room for him amongst the Espada with your defeat?"

"Ulquiorra, you little bas—" the Tenth Espada began growling, before a calm, amused voice sliced the quarrel in half like a blade.

"Yammy, I would advise you to put aside your temper for a moment," Aizen said, "and greet the newest, and last, member of the Espada."

Every eye in the room swiveled sharply over to look at their master, who was standing next to an Arrancar with medium-length brown hair, sharp grey eyes and a mask fragment resembling a lower-jaw that hung down like a necklace of fangs.

Stark had finally been brought under Aizen's banner, and Soul Society's worst fear had come to pass:

The Espada had been completed.

Every head at the table inclined slightly in respect, but Stark waved them off as he walked lethargically over to his seat.

"Beh, save it," he grumbled. "That transformation made me tired as hell, and I've got no interest in seeing you fawn."

The Espada all resumed straight postures while Stark slumped over in his chair, eyes already half-lidded as his head rested on his hands. Aizen gave a slight grin as he took his place at the head of the table: after hearing about Soul Society's increased efforts to prepare for Las Noches' eventual assault, the former Captain had accelerated his plans and completed the Espada himself by forceful persuasion. Now Sosuke was still a comfortable number of steps ahead of his enemies, and they had no idea that the former Captain had already completed his elite guard.

* * *

Ichigo was lying in his hospital bed, halfway between dreaming and waking, when he received an unexpected visitor.

"It's about time you got up, brother."

The orange-haired Soul Reaper's eyes began to open lethargically, but snapped open the rest of the way when he saw who his visitor was.

"What the hell do you want, Hichigo?" he asked as forcefully as he could, but Ichigo couldn't keep a sliver of hesitancy from entering his voice. The Hollow sensed it and chuckled.

"I wish there was a mirror in this place," he jeered. "If you could see how bruised you still are, you wouldn't be talking so tough. But you know exactly why I'm here, brother," the pale warrior finished, walking up to the prone form and glaring down into wide brown eyes with his narrow, malicious yellow ones.

"No, I don't," the Soul Reaper parried. "Why don't you enlighten me?"

Kurosaki wasn't prepared at all for the white fist that rushed towards his sternum, but his hand acted for him and instinctively blocked the blow. Ichigo's eyes widened even further when he felt no pain, and his Hollow counterpart smirked.

"_That's_ what I'm talking about," the pale warrior said triumphantly. "Even though you look like crap on the outside, you're strong enough to block a punch from me without feeling anything. So why haven't you healed yourself by now? What the hell's holding you back? Don't you want to get stronger? Don't you want to kill that smug Aizen bastard?"

"Yes, I do!" Ichigo shouted back. "Now shut up!"

"Not until you give me one reason to think you aren't full of shit, brother," Hichigo insisted, and the Soul Reaper sighed.

"I'm not ready for this," he said. "I can't fight a war; I'm not strong enough."

The Hollow raised both of his eyebrows at the reply, his eyes wide with incredulity.

"Are you retarded, Ichigo?" he asked bluntly, and the brown-eyed warrior flinched slightly at the insult. "Were you listening to anything I was saying just now? If you're not strong enough to fight Aizen right now, then _get stronger_. If you don't think you're ready, clearly you've forgotten how you were able to block the fucking _Soukyoku_ with a single zanpakuto just because you gave yourself a reason to fight.

"And if you're really going to tell me you can't wage a war, you must have amnesia. Because unless I'm going insane, I seem to remember a kid who had literally just learned _shikai_ tearing down Soul Society practically by himself. So stop feeling so sorry for yourself, Ichigo, and get up before I have to drag you by your neck!"

Kurosaki felt a wave of anger, indignation, and determination rush through him, transforming itself into raw, untamed power as it grew. The surge closed up what cuts remained, healed the burns while leaving only a trace of scar tissue to remember them by, and refocused his hazy, brown eyes into sharp, determined orbs that began to pulse a faint blue with spiritual power.

After a few moments, the rush subsided and Ichigo swung his legs over the side of the bed, rising to his feet swiftly and surely. The pale warrior to his left smiled, his yellow eyes glimmering with something approaching approval.

"Now that wasn't so hard, was it?" he asked, and Ichigo just glared at him before picking up his zanpakuto and walking towards the door. Before he left, however, the Soul Reaper turned his head back over his shoulder and spoke.

"Hey, Hichigo," he said, "I have a question for ya."

"Shoot."

"I achieved _bankai_ with Zangetsu, but as far as I can tell I'm not drawing on him for power. So how do I re-learn it, if you're my zanpakuto's spirit now?"

The pale warrior gave a darkly amused chuckle.

"The same way you did with Zangetsu, brother," he answered. "But try not to get ahead of yourself; you're going to have to be a lot stronger than you are now before you can even _think_ about being able to subjugate me. And when you _do_ think you're ready, I won't hold back. No more of this 'buddy' bullshit you pulled to gain my '_shikai_'; if you really want to be king, kid, you had better be prepared to pry the crown from my hands."

The Soul Reaper smiled cockily, the glow of inner-strength back in his eyes.

"I wouldn't expect anything less," he said before flashing away, leaving Hichigo by himself.

Well, almost by himself.

"It is almost time," a deep, slightly echoing voice spoke out, "for me to return."

The Hollow 'tsk'ed dismissively.

"Don't count your chickens before they hatch, old man," he parried. "The only way you're coming back is if the kid realizes you're still buried somewhere in his soul."

Zangetsu chucked.

"When he challenges you for the right to _bankai_, Hollow," the spirit replied, "he will remember that you are not his only ally."

"We'll see soon enough, old man," Hichigo spoke as the pair faded away from the corporeal world.

* * *

Kaien barely blocked the latest strike in a frighteningly fast string of attacks, and took the brief respite to marvel at how strong his student had gotten over the past few weeks. It was like the young Kuchiki was possessed; she was pushing herself incredibly hard and progressing at a rate far beyond anything anyone had anticipated, even her older brother.

"I might have to stop training you soon, Kuchiki," Shiba said as he broke the deadlock with a shove and launched his own volley of attacks. "At this rate, I'll lose my arm-badge in a few days!"

"Flattery will get you nowhere, Kaien-dono," Rukia said with a smirk as she parried a strike and all but disarmed her opponent with a counter-attack. As he jumped backwards and caught his breath, the Lieutenant got a mischievous smile on his face.

"Clearly, you're too good for simple _kendo_ training," he said. "What do you say we take this thing to the next level? If you think you can handle it, that is," he taunted with a smirk, knowing just how to press his student's buttons.

Not even replying to the provocation, the violet-eyed Soul Reaper turned her zanpakuto point-down and called out.

"Dance, Sode no Shirayuki!"

Kaien's smirk turned into a smile.

"I'll take that as a 'yes'," he said. "Okay, Kuchiki, but know that I ain't gonna hold back."

"Kaien-dono," the young Kuchiki asked smoothly, "are you stalling because you're afraid of simply losing, or because you're afraid of losing so badly you'll never recover?"

Shiba's eyes widened slightly in surprise at the taunt, before narrowing sharply. Kurosaki had no idea what he was getting into, that was for sure.

"Try saying that again in about five minutes, Kuchiki," he shot back. "Surge through the seas and rage through the skies, Nejibana!"

With the two zanpakuto unsealed, teacher and student clashed once again, a crowd of Thirteenth Division Soul Reapers beginning to gather to observe the mock duel.

* * *

Ichigo walked out into the main room of Las Noches, his zanpakuto resting easily over his shoulders as his aura practically bled almost insufferable confidence. His brown eyes looked over the Espada, taking note of the new faces, before turning his gaze to the Soul Reaper at the head of the table.

"You've certainly been busy, Aizen," he said. Sosuke merely smirked as he signaled for an indignant Tosen to stand down, who had no doubt wanted to punish Ichigo for being disrespectful.

"Ichigo," the brown-haired former Captain replied easily. "Good to see you're on your feet again. I was about to send Rudobon and the Exequias to check in on you."

"Gee, thanks for the vote of confidence," Kurosaki replied snidely with a smirk of his own, almost laughing at the apoplectic expression on Kaname's face but restraining himself at the last moment.

"For those of you who haven't met him yet," Sosuke addressed the Espada as if the exchange with Ichigo had never happened, "this is Ichigo Kurosaki, a Soul Reaper who joined our cause when I departed from Soul Society."

"Yo," the orange-haired warrior said with a lazy wave, before Ichimaru's voice spoke up and broke through the slightly awkward silence.

"Ichigo-kun," he said, "I think it would be in our best interest to get you back into fighting shape as soon as possible. What'd ya say you and I go spar for a bit, while the Captain finishes up this logistical stuff?"

Kurosaki was about to decline, as spending time with Gin was not high on his list of things he wanted to do at the moment, but there was something in the garnet-eyed Soul Reaper's voice that made him reconsider and nod.

"Sure," he answered. "That sounds good."

The two promptly flashed away, re-emerging in a plain, white-walled room. As soon as he was sure they were alone, Ichimaru dropped his smirk and opened his eyes, his voice stone-cold serious.

"I know what you're planning, kid," he said, the affectation in his voice dropping altogether as his grinning mask fell away, "and I want in."

Even though he was shocked by both Gin's change in demeanor and startlingly accurate accusation, Ichigo swiftly hid his surprise behind a veil of nonchalance.

"I don't know what you're talking about…"

The denial was quickly silenced by the point of Shinso pressing hard against the Soul Reaper's Adam's apple, and Ichimaru's hard eyes glinted fiercely.

"Don't play dumb with me, Ichigo," he hissed. "It doesn't suit you, and I don't have the patience for it. I know you've been trying to think of a way to bring down Aizen since the day you got here, and the only reason why you would pull such an unbelievably stupid stunt like you did just now to try and agitate him would be if you thought you had the edge to back it up. So what is it that's got you so confident all of a sudden, Ichigo?"

Realizing he had his back quite literally up against a wall, the brown-eyed Soul Reaper figured it would be smart to start talking. Before he began to spill the beans, though, he had to be sure of one thing.

"How do I know you're not going to rat me out to Aizen?" he asked. "And why would you want to depose him, anyway? I thought you guys were best buds, or something."

Ichimaru laughed harshly at the question, a smirk rising again on his face.

"Are you kidding, Ichigo?" he shot back. "Aizen wouldn't recognize the words 'friend' or 'loyalty' if they walked right up to him and smacked his teeth out."

"But then why have you followed him for so long, if he's just using you?"

"Because he made the best offer," Gin said with a noncommittal shrug, "and at the time, he offered to take me for what I was, rather than shun me like the rest of the Soul Reapers had.

"And I didn't graduate the Academy so young by being an idiot, Ichigo," the silver-haired Soul Reaper continued. "I know that once Aizen has total control, everyone who serves under him will become expendable, and I'm not about to march to my death like a sheep if another option presents itself."

Ichigo smiled despite the chokehold he was in, seeing where this was going.

"So you think I have what it takes to defeat Aizen, then, and you're willing to fight with me?"

"Not exactly," Gin parried. "Yes, I do think that somewhere in that greenhorn, fight-shy and pitying soul of yours lies the ability to overcome Aizen, but I'm not about to fight alongside someone who's just going to charge in and get himself and everyone else butchered like a fool."

Ichigo sighed.

"You sound like my Hollow," he replied, and Ichimaru smiled.

"I'll take that as a compliment," the silver-haired Soul Reaper said. "Now," Gin continued, withdrawing the point of his zanpakuto from Ichigo's throat, "let's get started."

The orange-haired Soul Reaper raised an eyebrow in confusion.

"Started? With what?"

The garnet-eyed former Captain chuckled darkly once again, his reiatsu spiking suddenly in a way that sent a chill down Ichigo's spine.

"Your real training," Gin answered, powering up a _kido_ spell in his free hand and letting it fly.

Ichigo had all of two seconds to roll to the side in order to avoid having his head blown off by a terrifyingly strong _shakkaho_. As he rose shakily to his feet, the warrior's voice was beyond angry.

"What the hell was that for?!" Ichigo shouted. "You almost killed me!"

"That's the idea!" Ichimaru parried, firing off a _byakurai_ that carved a gash into Ichigo's shoulder. "I'm gonna draw out your killer instinct and pound every ounce of fear from your soul, Ichigo," he declared. "If it takes me beating you to within an inch of your life, then so be it."

Kurosaki spent the next five minutes dodging and weaving like a madman, so focused on staying alive that he had no time to think about striking back.

'What the hell are you doing, Ichigo?' Hichigo asked scathingly inside his head. 'Stop pussyfooting around and fight him! Quit being such a coward and stand your ground! He's not even fighting at half-strength, for fuck's sake!'

The badgered Soul Reaper shut out almost the entire tirade, until he heard Hichigo say that Gin was fighting at less than half his strength. At the notion that he was being taken lightly, something inside of Ichigo snapped. His warrior's pride had been wounded, and that made him furious.

Planting both of his feet, Ichigo faced down the incoming _soukatsui_ and sliced it clean in half with his zanpakuto, rage gleaming in his eyes as they began to change in color. They shifted starkly from a warm brown to a cold, hard yellow, and when the telltale white stripes that signaled his transformation into the '_shikai_' state of his zanpakuto appeared on Kurosaki's face, Ichimaru smiled.

"Finally, we're getting somewhere," he quipped, before Ichigo rushed at him full-speed, killing intent saturating his reiatsu.

Bit by bit, as Nel had feared and Gin had demanded, the pity was being ground out of Ichigo Kurosaki's heart: war, after all, had no place for it.

* * *

Rukia and Kaien broke apart after their latest exchange, both of them breathing hard by now, and were about to begin another round when a very familiar reiatsu appeared nearby and stopped them in their tracks.

"Well, as much as I hate to interrupt this, as it looks like you two are having so much fun," Captain Ukitake said with a hint of amusement in his voice, "not only has your little spectacle kept half of the Division from performing their duties, but the pair of you have been summoned to a meeting by the Captain-Commander himself. I suggest you not be late."

The two dueling Soul Reapers barely noticed the crowd that had been watching them disperse shamefacedly, and the pair of them hurried over to First Division Headquarters as fast as they could. When they got there, the stony, aged voice of Yamamoto greeted them with its usual terseness.

"Lieutenant Shiba, Ms. Kuchiki," he said. "How nice of you to grace us with your presence."

Teacher and student dropped into apologetic bows, before straightening up and taking in the other occupants of the Great Hall. Soi Fon was gazing at them with a look bordering on disgust, while Ikkaku and Renji looked excited and focused, respectively.

"The five of you have been assigned to the Human World, to monitor possible Arrancar incursions and other movements by Aizen's troops. I expect full, prompt reports on your findings; you leave tomorrow morning at dawn. Captain Kurotsuchi has already arranged for the delivery of your _gigai_ to your respective quarters. That is all; dismissed!"

The five members of the task force nodded briskly and vanished, each one pondering different thoughts as they laid down that night for a brief rest. Ikkaku was looking forward to fighting some truly strong opponents, while Kaien was feeling worried about Rukia despite the fact he knew she was more than strong enough to handle this mission. Soi Fon was just relieved that the Second Division had been left in the hands of a certain Shihoin whose exile had been recently repealed, rather than her incompetent Lieutenant, Omaeda. Rukia was torn between feeling excited and scared at the idea of possibly crossing paths with Ichigo again, and Renji was thinking of nothing other than his unquenchable desire to beat that same traitorous, heartbreaking Soul Reaper to a pulp as soon as he could.

* * *

**A/N:** I had to crunch the rest of the Espada in or it would have taken far too long, and I didn't want to kill the momentum (hence the time-skip). Also, Ichigo getting trained this way by Gin doesn't mean he's going to turn into a hard-hearted bastard like Aizen, merely that he's going to gain both the capacity to be merciless and the willingness to take a life when he has to. Next chapter will feature Ichigo's quest for _bankai_ and a surprise duel in the Human World that has cataclysmic effects on the two participants.

Oh, and as always, **please review!** I'm truly blown away by the reception this story has received so far; all of you are fantastic (I know i sound like a broken record at this point, but it bears repeating)!


	9. Unchained

**Disclaimer:** I do not own Bleach; Tite Kubo does. I do, however, own this story.

**Torn**

**Chapter 9:** Unchained

* * *

The next morning, at the same time that Soi Fon's squad was about to depart for the Human World, Ichigo Kurosaki opened his eyes and greeted yet another 'day' in the blasted desert world of Hueco Mundo. At least here in Las Noches there was some sunlight, but even that felt kind of fake once you knew of the illusion behind it.

The Soul Reaper's shoulder flared with pain as he tried to move it, the memory of the previous night's training slamming back into him like a brick wall. Ichimaru had pushed Ichigo's _shikai_ to its absolute limit, and he'd only had to release Shinso's _shikai_ once. Kurosaki shuddered reflexively as he thought about how powerful Gin would be if he had a reason to go all-out and unleash his _bankai_, before praying that that day never came.

Forcing himself up and out of bed, Ichigo got dressed in his uniform and shuffled lethargically down the hall towards the main room, where hopefully breakfast would be waiting.

"Morning, Ichigo," Neliel called out as she joined the orange-haired Soul Reaper on his trek, her eyes narrowing slightly in concern when she saw what kind of shape he was in. "You look like hell," the Espada said solicitously. "What happened?"

"Nnoitra was talking smack about you again," Ichigo lied with a smile, "so I had to kick his ass. He got in a couple of lucky shots, though."

As much as Kurosaki hated keeping secrets from Nel, he was smart enough to know that no one outside of him and Gin could know about their 'training sessions'. Besides, it wasn't a complete fabrication: Ichigo really did want to beat the shit out of Nnoitra for all of the trash he spouted about Neliel and Halibel, but he hadn't gotten the chance yet.

The brown-eyed Soul Reaper wondered why Halibel put up with Jiruga's crap considering that she was three ranks ahead of him and one ahead of Neliel, but right as he was beginning to ponder that question, Ichigo found himself at the doors to the main room. Opening them and stepping through, he picked up a bowl of food and ate it, standing next to Tosen as he did so.

"What happened to you, Ichigo?" the blind Soul Reaper asked, and Kurosaki just shrugged.

"I fell down some stairs," he answered plainly, and Ichimaru's grin became just a little wider.

* * *

"So this is Karakura Town, huh?" Kaien said as the five-person squad stepped through the _senkaimon_ and into the Human World. "I could stand being here for a while, sure. Has a nice feel to it, ya know?"

Soi Fon snorted dismissively.

"No, I don't," she shot back. "In any case, we don't have time for sight-seeing. Kuchiki, do you know anywhere we could stay for the duration of the mission?"

Rukia's eyebrows narrowed together in thought for a few moments before she spoke.

"Well, one of us could always stay with Urahara; I'm sure he'd love the company. Orihime might also have some room to spare for two, and I'm sure Sado would be willing to take in one of us…"

"That's four taken care of," Soi Fon broke in, her voice impatient. "What about the fifth?"

Rukia's eyes clouded over as a flash of a familiar, oddly comfortable closet passed through her mind's eye, but it vanished as she blinked.

"You guys take those four spots," she said calmly, but with an edge in her voice that said not to argue. "I'll figure something out."

The Captain nodded her approval.

"Very well," she said crisply. "Let's get moving; we need to be settled down and ready to move as soon as possible."

Ikkaku vanished first, flash-stepping in the direction of Sado's house. Kaien said he would have no problems kicking back at Urahara's shop and left to go there, while Soi Fon and Renji hurried in the direction of Orihime's house, but not before Abarai had given his long-time friend a worried look. Rukia sighed and began to walk down the street, wondering where she was going to go, when a warm voice spoke up from behind her.

"What's a nice girl like you doing with a look like that on your face, Rukia?"

The violet-eyed Soul Reaper spun around, and her hand was about to move instinctively to where her zanpakuto would have been before she saw whom the speaker was and her eyes widened.

"Kurosaki-sama?"

Isshin greeted the young Kuchiki with a smile.

"You don't have to be so formal," he insisted. "Any person who's as close to Ichigo as you are might as well be a member of the family, as far as I'm concerned."

Rukia dropped her head slightly to hide a faint blush that had risen on her cheeks at the implication, but then Ichigo's situation came back to her mind and she sighed. The Soul Reaper's head dropped lower, this time out of dejection rather than modesty, until Isshin's hand rested gently on her shoulder and the strangely comforting aura he seemed to exude brought the young Kuchiki's eyes back up to meet his.

"He'll be all right, Rukia," the patriarch said, his tone uncommonly serious. "I know it. He cares about us too much to leave us behind for good; the least we can do is return the favor and have faith in him until he comes home."

Rukia was about to ask how exactly Ichigo's dad, who seemed like the craziest man imaginable, knew exactly what was going on with his son, but Isshin stopped the questions with a look.

"There'll be time for those later," he said. "For now, let's get you home; I'm sure Karin and Yuzu will be happy to see you again. At the very least," he added with a sly edge in his voice, "they should be more fun to hang out with than Byakuya."

The violet-eyed Soul Reaper nodded distractedly and followed the older man in silent gratitude, before the words she had just heard sunk in and almost stopped her dead in her tracks.

How in the _hell_ did this man know her brother?

* * *

Ichigo stepped into a large, empty room in a far off part of Las Noches and closed the door behind him, sealing it. He wasn't going to give himself a chance to run away from this; it was all, or nothing.

It was time to challenge Hichigo for his _bankai_.

Something within the Soul Reaper nagged at him, saying that it was too soon, but Kurosaki brushed it off. He wasn't going to let Ichimaru pound him to a pulp again; if achieving _bankai_ right here and now was what it was going to take, then that's what he would do. As far as Ichigo knew Aizen was far beyond Gin in power, and the orange-haired Soul Reaper couldn't even defeat Ichimaru at half-strength. Kurosaki needed more power if he was ever going to get out from under Aizen's thumb, and he needed it now.

"So, you're decided?" Hichigo's voice rang out, bouncing harshly off of the walls of the empty room as he stepped forward from the shadows. "I'll warn you one more time, brother," the pale warrior continued, drawing his own, inverted zanpakuto.

"If you lose, it's all over."

Ichigo just chuckled, strength smoldering behind his eyes.

"You talk too much, Hichigo," he parried, beginning to run towards his opponent as he unwrapped his blade. "Shut up and fight!"

The pale warrior blocked Kurosaki's first strike with his forearm, meeting the Soul Reaper's determined stare with a mocking one.

"Do you really think you can cut me with this empty blade, Ichigo?" he hissed. "Don't fuck with me!"

The Hollow brought up his blade with the intention of running Ichigo through like he had last time, but his prey dodged with a flash-step and reappeared a few paces away, unharmed.

"You've gotten faster, brother," Hichigo said after a moment. "I guess running away was the only thing your time with Ichimaru taught you how to do after all!"

The taunt accomplished its purpose as Ichigo charged forward blindly, driven by rage and self-loathing. The Hollow blocked each of his strikes so easily it almost seemed effortless, something that only increased Kurosaki's anger and made his attacks that much simpler to dodge.

"You just don't get it, do you?" Hichigo asked as his opponent's flurry of attacks continued. "You can't defeat me with an empty sword, Ichigo!"

The pale warrior snarled and carved a huge gash down Ichigo's chest with his inverted Zangetsu, jumping back a few steps to give the Soul Reaper space to fall to his knees. Hichigo felt his counterpart's reiatsu spike feebly and he sighed, exasperated.

"You can't call out my powers if I'm outside of your soul, brother," the Hollow spoke. "You forced me out in order to challenge me for complete supremacy, and now you're about to pay the price for the mistake of thinking you alone have enough strength to subjugate _me_!"

Hichigo raised his sword high, holding it aloft for a moment before bringing it down swiftly as Ichigo's unfocused eyes drifted shut.

* * *

"Open your eyes, Ichigo."

The orange-haired Soul Reaper heard the voice echo in his head and did as it commanded, opening his eyes slowly to find that he was in his Spirit World.

And he wasn't the only one there.

"Open your eyes, Ichigo," the echoing voice said again, "and gaze upon the face of he whom you have forsaken."

The battered warrior looked up to see a tall man balanced on a steel pole. He was wearing a long jacket and a thin pair of glasses, from behind which a pair of steely, cold eyes looked down upon Ichigo with scathing disappointment. Swallowing the intense wave of shame that rose up within him, the Soul Reaper spoke out in a strained voice.

"Zangetsu?"

The spirit scoffed.

"You still presume to call me by my name, Ichigo?" he asked. "After you turned away from me, after you cast me aside and leaned upon your Hollow, you still think you have the right to say my name?!"

Kurosaki had never heard Zangetsu raise his voice before, and was stunned almost to the point of silence. His point made, the old man lowered his voice and continued.

"Your Hollow was right, Ichigo," he said. "Your blade, as it stands now, is empty. The zanpakuto is a reflection of your soul, and without his power to draw upon you are nothing; a shell, weaker than an unarmed child."

"But my soul isn't empty," the orange-haired Soul Reaper defended. "You're here, aren't you?!"

"As far as you were concerned, Ichigo," Zangetsu answered evenly, "I didn't exist until just a few moments ago, when I showed you my face once again. Once all of your Hollow's power had been stripped away, only in a moment of total desperation as you stood on the brink of death, could you hear my voice. I will always be with you, Ichigo," the spirit continued, his voice gradually gaining strength.

"As you breath, so will I. As you fight to protect those you care about, so I will fight with equal might to protect you. But you must promise me that you will place the same faith in me that I have in you, Ichigo. Without that bond, I am nothing. Without that bond, _we_ are nothing. So tell me, Ichigo," Zangetsu finished, holding out his hand, "will you trust me to fight with you once more? Will you trust me to help you defeat this Hollow once and for all?"

Ichigo's eyes widened in surprise at the offer, before they narrowed again in determination as a confident smile appeared on his face once more.

"Zangetsu," he said, reaching out and taking the spirit's hand as the world around them faded away, "I thought you'd never ask."

* * *

Hichigo was already savoring his victory as his sword raced down though the air when the bent-over Soul Reaper's reiatsu spiked massively, forcing the surprised Hollow to back off. Ichigo rose to his feet a few heartbeats later, casually wiping the dirt off of his shoulder as a ring of dust formed around him in response to his renewed spiritual energy. Eyes glowing blue, the Soul Reaper grinned with bloodlust and power as his wound finished closing itself up before Hichigo's shocked eyes.

"Sorry about that," Ichigo said sarcastically, and the pale warrior raised a skeptical eyebrow.

"Sorry?" he echoed. "For what?"

The orange-haired Soul Reaper vanished completely, and even Hichigo had no idea where he was until the sharp blade of Zangetsu was pressed against his back.

"For getting your hopes up, brother," Ichigo finished. "Getsuga Tensho!"

There was a blinding explosion of power as the attack was released at point-blank range, and when the smoke cleared the Hollow was standing a few paces away from the Soul Reaper, breathing hard and bleeding profusely from a gash that had all but cut him in half.

"How…?" Hichigo breathed out, his voice strained and growing fainter as blood filled his lungs. "How did you…" his voice became more pained as something approaching emotional hurt seeped into it, "how _could_ you… brother?"

"Don't worry," Ichigo said calmly, walking over to his counterpart and putting his hand over the wound he had created, "I'm not going to let you die."

The Hollow could only stare at his one-time foe in mute incomprehension as Kurosaki healed his wound by using raw reiatsu to stitch it shut. After a few tense moments, Hichigo felt as good as new on the outside. On the inside, however, he knew that he had been defeated.

"It's time, Hichigo," he heard the brown-eyed Soul Reaper say. "Give me your _bankai_."

"No."

Ichigo gave his Hollow a flabbergasted look.

"What?"

"I said, no," Hichigo repeated, stronger this time. "I refuse to live in a world where I'm not the strongest, Ichigo. You've defeated me, I'll admit it; now do the honorable thing and _kill me already_!"

Kurosaki was stumped for a few moments, having not expected this to happen at all. He had defeated Hichigo fair and square, and so now the Hollow's power belonged to him: it was as simple as that. But the pale warrior's refusal presented a problem; he wouldn't lend Ichigo his full strength in battle if he was forced to cooperate, but Ichigo also knew that without the powers of both Zangetsu and his Hollow, he wouldn't be able to stand a chance against Aizen. He stood in thought for a few more heartbeats, before an idea so crazy it just might work popped into his head.

"I'll make you a deal, brother," the Soul Reaper said to the Hollow. "If you promise to submit to me and grant me the power of your _bankai_, I'll materialize your spirit permanently and let you stay in that separate form for good."

The idea struck Hichigo as a solid one, but he was too smart to be roped in to any agreement without asking about the inevitable catch.

"So what else do you want in exchange, besides the power of my _bankai_?"

"Nothing other than your loyalty, brother," Ichigo answered. "I'm going to need every sword I can gather to help me against Aizen, Hichigo," the Soul Reaper finished, "and you have one of the strongest swords I know."

The pale warrior considered the offer for a moment and nodded.

"Deal."

Ichigo smiled as his Hollow faded away and reappeared back in his soul. A heartbeat later Kurosaki almost fell over as a surge of power shot through him so suddenly he thought it was going to tear him apart, fading right before he fell to his knees from the pressure.

"I'm finished in here," Hichigo's voice called out from inside his head. "Now hurry up and do your part of the bargain; I don't know how much longer I can take the Old Man's grin before I rip his face off."

The Soul Reaper laughed as he raised his sword perpendicular to his body and concentrated, the blade of Zangetsu pulsing brightly with energy and kicking up a dust cloud a few feet away. As the light and the dust faded a flesh-and-blood Hichigo was revealed, standing there with a black-cloth-wrapped Zangetsu on his back. There was a satisfied look in his yellow eyes as he clenched and unclenched his hand, and a smile on his face that was so wide it made Kenpachi's war-grin look like a smirk.

"_This_ is what I'm talking about," he said happily, before looking over at Ichigo. "Well, brother?" he asked. "Aren't you going to try it out?"

The Soul Reaper nodded slightly, set his feet and held Zangetsu straight out in front of him.

"_Bankai_!"

There was a surge of power that forced Hichigo to close his eyes against the flying chunks of debris, and when he looked again, the form that was the pinnacle of Ichigo's power stood before him.

Ichigo's face had not changed beyond his eyes turning yellow and black; the white face-stripes of his _shikai_ were gone. His jacket was the same as it had been with his original _bankai_, but the white and black were reversed. His katana, too, was white now, but with black hilt-wrappings and a black chain extending from the end of the hilt. It was a true merger of both of his halves, the powers of Zangetsu and Hichigo harnessed into a single, terrifyingly powerful form.

But as Kurosaki's muscles began to strain a few moments later, he realized with painful clarity that while he had achieved _bankai_ once more, he had a long way to go before he could handle it effectively, let alone master it.

So he would train with Ichimaru again tonight after all, but this time the fight would be both much more even and much more fun. Releasing his _bankai_ form and sighing, Ichigo finally allowed himself to relax as he and his now-incarnated Hollow left the torn-up room behind. The Soul Reaper had gained _bankai_, but the real battle was just beginning.

* * *

Grimmjow Jaegerjaques was feeling more and more like a caged animal as each minute of idle time passed him by. The Espada wanted nothing more than to have a good brawl and blow off some steam, but Ichigo was off somewhere doing god-knew-what and Ulquiorra, the only other person he had any interest in fighting, claimed that Aizen had some important assignment for him to accomplish. Grimmjow knew that the real reason Schiffer didn't want to fight was because he was afraid he'd get his ass kicked by the Sixth Espada, but he wasn't in the mood to argue with Ulquiorra right now.

Which left Jaegerjaques pacing around his room and saddled with a ton of pent-up aggression, wondering what to do. Just when he was about to snap and blow a chunk of the wall away with a _cero_ blast, the voice of Shawlong Qufang, one of his fraccion, filled the room.

"Something on your mind, Jaegerjaques-sama?"

Grimmjow turned around and spat out a reply with a snarl.

"No," he said, "there's nothing on my mind, and that's the problem. I'd spar with Ichigo, but I have no idea where he is."

"The word going around is that Ichigo Kurosaki has spent the day so far training in secret, sir. No one knows exactly what he is doing, but there have been massive emanations of reiatsu felt from the part of Las Noches he was last seen entering."

Grimmjow's blue eyes narrowed at the report.

"So, he's been training to get stronger, huh?" the Espada half-hissed. "That sneaky little bastard, I bet he's trying to pull ahead of me. Well, to hell with that! If he's going to spend all day training, I'm gonna match him by spending all night fighting! Get the rest of the crew together, Shawlong," Jaegerjaques said, his eyes smoldering with killing intent.

"We're gonna hunt us some Soul Reapers in the Human World."

* * *

Kaien Shiba was finishing up a cup of sake in the front room of Urahara's shop when he felt the reiatsu in the air around him spike drastically. The surprise on his face turned into cold, ruthless determination when he recognized the type of reiatsu that had so suddenly appeared:

It was a pack of Arrancar. From having spent so much time trapped within Aaroniero, Kaien knew what they were and what they could do better than any other Soul Reaper not currently in Hueco Mundo. Picking up his communicator, the Lieutenant told the other four members of his team to be on high alert, especially for any Arrancar with a number higher than eleven. When he was satisfied that everyone was prepared for the impending melee, Kaien walked outside and looked up at his opponent.

He was a tall, thin Arrancar with long, straight blonde hair and a casual attitude that told Kaien he was going to be easy to catch off-guard.

"Hey, bro," the Arrancar called down in a tone that made Shiba want to smack him across the face. "You want to be my first kill of the night?"

Feeling the reiatsu of his comrades surge up at four other points across town, the Lieutenant figured there was no point in holding back and he soared upwards the short distance to meet his opponent head-on, drawing Nejibana and clashing with the Arrancar.

* * *

Soi Fon received Kaien's warning and was immediately out on the roof of the house in her Soul Reaper form, every muscle in her body tense and ready to spring. It was that stance, honed by countless hours of SMC training, that saved her from being run through when a sword appeared in front of her from out of nowhere. Neatly blocking the strike with her own sealed zanpakuto and jumping backwards, Soi Fon stilled the slight trembling in her limbs and looked up to take stock of her attacker.

He was tall, about a head taller than her, with telltale blue hair and eyes to match it. Those vivid eyes glowed with an almost feral gleam, reined in by an even sharper intelligence. He would have passed for a Soul Reaper but for the hole in his abdomen and mask fragment on his jaw, the two things that signified him as an Arrancar. He chuckled, eyeing up his opponent with the same thoroughness she had given him.

"That was a nice block, Soul Reaper," he said, his voice seething with a cockiness Soi Fon immediately found infuriating. "Still, it was a bit slower than what I would expect from a Captain."

The dark-eyed Soul Reaper didn't say anything for a heartbeat before vanishing and reappearing at his side with her _shikai_ unsealed and pointed at his throat.

"Fast enough for you, Arrancar?" she hissed as she jabbed the point into his neck, only to have it fail to penetrate the skin.

"What the hell…?" Soi Fon gasped, and Grimmjow barked out a laugh before punching her hard in the midsection, sending the Captain tumbling.

"You'll have to actually be able to pierce my _hierro_ if you want that little sting of yours to do any damage, Soul Reaper," he spoke mockingly. Just as he hoped would happen, Soi Fon charged him, the point of Suzumebachi descending rapidly but predictably as she struck.

Grimmjow's plan was to parry the blow with his zanpakuto, use the Soul Reaper's momentum against her and throw her off balance, but when the Espada parried the attack the rest of his plan fell to pieces. As the two zanpakuto collided, Pantera resonated in a way Grimmjow had never felt before and the world melted away as the waves of energy rippling off of his zanpakuto engulfed him.

Within his mind's eye, Jaegerjaques found himself assaulted by a barrage of images:

_An alley, infested with rats. _

_An old, broken-down building with a single swing in the front yard. _

_A thug shoving him up against a wall and almost breaking his jaw with a right hook._

_The bitter taste of blood in his mouth, and the dull clinking sound of a loose tooth swirling down a drain._

_A girl, scared and alone, looking up at him with round, coal-dark eyes and asking him for his name._

_His name…_

Soi Fon was going through a similar experience as Suzumebachi pulsed with energy and shook around her hand, visceral images clawing their way into her head:

_A gravestone, cold and gray in the dawn._

_A drunken, fat man almost blinding her in one eye with a vicious punch._

_An old, broken down building with a single swing in the front yard, her new home._

_A boy, bruised but proud, with blue eyes gleaming against the darkness._

_She asks him his name._

_His name…_

The visions ended just as jarringly as they had come, dropping the Soul Reaper unceremoniously back into the Human World as her brain scrambled frantically to recover. Looking into the glazed eyes of her opponent, Soi Fon could tell that he had just had the same thing happen to him.

"What…" the Espada gasped as he tried to catch his breath, "the hell… was that?"

"I don't know," Soi Fon heard herself reply, but it felt like she was still outside of her own body. Those images had been so vivid; why had she seen them? What could they mean?

As their comrades clashed around them the Espada and the Captain stood motionless, their blades still deadlocked, waiting for an answer that would not come.

* * *

**A/N: **For anyone who's wondering what's going on at the end there between Soi Fon and Grimmjow, it's a concept I borrowed from the second Bleach movie, The Diamond Dust Rebellion, called 'Zanpakuto Resonance'. If you don't know what that entails, basically sometimes Zanpakuto supposedly 'tremble' when they clash, and reveal their wielder's pasts. That's where the trippy flashbacks came from. I hope that clears up some possible confusion, but if not, it's going to be explained to the characters themselves later on, as will the significance of the flashbacks.

Anyhow, I hope you enjoyed this chapter, and as always, **please review**!


	10. Survival of the Fittest

**Dsiclaimer: **I do not own Bleach, or any of its characters. I do, however, own this story.

**Torn**

**Chapter 10:** Survival of the Fittest

* * *

Nel Tu was sitting alone in her room reading a book when she received an unexpected visitor.

"May I come in, Neliel-sama?"

The Third Espada looked up and was surprised to see the emotionless face of Ulquiorra Schiffer staring back at her. Nodding lightly, she motioned for him to enter.

"Of course," she said, "and don't be so formal. Just because I'm one rank higher than you doesn't mean you have to address me like that. We're both Vasto Lorde after all, are we not?"

The Fourth Espada walked calmly over to a chair and sat down, before shifting his gaze to regard his female comrade.

"What class of Hollow we were before we chose to serve under Aizen-sama is irrelevant, Neliel-san," he answered, downgrading the honorific but feeling compelled to at least put _something_ at the end of her name. "Now, our strength is all that matters. You are stronger than me, and as such I will treat you with due deference."

Nel brushed off the second part of Ulquiorra's justification, focusing instead on the first thing he'd said.

"You didn't choose to serve under Aizen," she said. "He forced you into joining him, didn't he? So why do you fight with him?"

"I had no choice," Schiffer shot back as a hint of bitterness entered his voice. "He was stronger than I, and compelled me to join the Espada. As I said, the will of the strong must be respected by the weak."

Oderschvank gave a small, sad smile that Ulquiorra could not see before replying.

"You think you are weak because you lost a single fight, Ulqui-kun?" she asked, deliberately using the nickname that had always infuriated him back when they had both been Hollows. "That doesn't sound like you at all. The Ulquiorra I remember would have died before acknowledging a usurper like Aizen as his master."

Schiffer flinched at the hard tone, but his voice did not rise to the provocation when he spoke.

"It is as you say, Neliel-san," he answered. "The Ulquiorra you remember is dead, and Aizen-sama was the one who destroyed him."

The Fourth Espada vanished with a buzz before Nel could ask him what he had come there to say in the first place. It was yet another question she had about the mysterious, green-eyed Arrancar that she doubted would ever get answered. Schiffer had spoken sparingly even as a Hollow, but at least back then he had said more than two sentences at a time. Getting that much out of him now was like pulling teeth, and Neliel could only hope that her comrade was wrong; that somewhere, buried deep underneath those dull, emerald eyes, was the fire that had once made him the fiercest warrior the Third Espada had ever known.

Breaking out of her melancholy, Neliel was surprised at how depressed she had let herself become. Resolving to cheer up as quickly as possible, the green-haired Arrancar walked out of her room and was on her way to meet up with her two fraccion when she ran into Ichigo, who was coming the other way down the hall.

"Hey there, Ichigo," she greeted as cheerily as she could. "Where've you been all—" Nel's question was stopped in her throat as she saw a pale figure walking next to Ichigo who might as well have been his albino twin. As her mind connected the dots, the Espada rushed forward and looked at the bone-white version of Ichigo with a mix of surprise and excitement.

"You're Ichigo's Hollow, aren't you?!" she exclaimed, continuing to speak quickly and not allowing the surprised Hollow to get a word in edgewise. "I remember I felt your presence all the way back in that cave; it's so nice to finally meet you in person! Do you mind if I call you Shiro-kun?"

The thoroughly mystified Hollow couldn't say a word, and Ichigo was too busy struggling not to laugh to come to his defense.

"Shiro-kun it is, then!" Neliel declared. "Oh, Ichigo," she said, ruffling Hichigo's hair, "he's adorable!"

At this point Kurosaki was almost on the floor, and the look on Hichigo's face made it clear that he was trying to decide between dying right that instant or killing a small, defenseless creature in a horrendously brutal fashion. Fortunately neither of those outcomes came to pass, because the female Arrancar relinquished her grip on Hichigo and took a few steps further down the hall.

"Well, I have to get going," she said in farewell. "Dondochakka and Pesche are probably waiting dinner on me at this point. See you later, Ichigo! It was nice meeting you, Shiro-kun!"

Once Neliel was out of earshot, Ichigo let loose with a toe-curling bout of laughter while Hichigo's scrambled mind struggled to comprehend what had just happened to him.

"Did she call me… _adorable_?" he asked incredulously, and the Soul Reaper stopped laughing long enough to reply.

"I wouldn't worry about it," he said. "You were probably just imagining things… Shiro-kun!"

The Soul Reaper broke down into another fit of laughter upon saying the nickname again, which was only halted when Hichigo grabbed him by his neck and slammed him into the wall.

"Tell anyone… _anyone_ about that nickname," he hissed, "and I will fucking end you."

A grin remained on Ichigo's face even as he caught his breath and brushed bits of rubble off of his clothes.

"Don't you worry, Shiro-kun," he said smugly, "your secret is safe with me."

Ichigo wound up sprinting the rest of the way to his next training session with Ichimaru, Hichigo hot on his tail and lashing out with his zanpakuto like a butcher on speed with severe anger management issues.

* * *

In the moonlit night hanging over Karakura Town, Kaien Shiba exchanged increasingly frenetic strikes with his Arrancar opponent.

"I gotta hand it to ya, bro," the blond-haired fraccion said as he deflected yet another attack, "you're pretty good at this. But there's no way you'll ever cut me if you've spent this long trying to break through my defense and failing. Just give up now, bro; I'll make it painless, I promise."

The Lieutenant smirked and jumped back a few feet, something in his eyes suddenly making the Arrancar across from him very, very afraid.

"I haven't been trying to get through your defense, you fraccion trash," he said acidly. "I've been figuring out its weak points."

Kaien flashed away, reappearing behind the Arrancar holding a now-bloodied Nejibana, drops of the crimson liquid rolling effortlessly down the edge. The thin Arrancar could only gasp in shock as his right arm fell away, and it would have taken his zanpakuto with it if he hadn't snatched it up in his other hand at the last possible moment. Whirling around, he looked at his opponent with fury and more than a little fear shining in his eyes.

"Don't take me lightly, you Soul Reaper bastard!" the Arrancar shouted. "I, Illeforte Grantz, will bury you under the weight of my true power! Gore, Del Toro!"

Shiba took the time he was given to release his own zanpakuto and adopt a defensive stance, waiting to see what kind of _resurrecion_ form this Arrancar possessed before going on the attack. There was some chattering over the communicator in his ear that caught Kaien's attention: Ikkaku had managed to defeat his opponent, but Rukia and Renji will still fighting hard, to the point of requesting the release of their Limiter Seals. Kaien knew that he had to let Kuchiki fight her own fight, but if things got bad and he was still here slugging it out with this joker while his student was bleeding out on the pavement, he would never be able to forgive himself.

He would finish this fight now, and then watch Rukia's duel from a distance. Willfully ignoring the ominous parallels that idea had with the night he had been possessed by Metastacia, Shiba turned his attention back to Illeforte, who had by now finished transforming into a gigantic, bull-like creature.

"Not bad," Kaien said nonchalantly, increasing his reiatsu to its maximum possible level. The Arrancar just chuckled; it was a deep, grating sound that seemed to scrape at the Lieutenant's soul.

"You're not scared, bro, I can tell that much by your stance and your reiatsu," Grantz spoke, "but it'll take more than _cojones_ to beat me!"

Kaien smiled widely with a berserker's glee, charging forward and attacking fiercely with Nejibana. Gleaming steel and water that seemed almost as sharp struck again and again, each blow taking off sizeable chunks of Grantz' bone-like form. But even at this rate, the fight would take too long if he wanted to get over to Kuchiki in time. Sighing, Shiba backed off from the assault and focused, digging deep within his soul.

"You know," he said with a frustrated sigh as he re-sealed and sheathed his zanpakuto, "I was hoping to keep these powers buried for good, but you went an' gave me no choice but to use 'em. That really, really pisses me off, Arrancar."

Illeforte's eyes narrowed as he saw his opponent sheathe his sword, leaving him completely defenseless. What was he up to?

Suddenly the Lieutenant disappeared with a buzz, reappearing right behind the shocked Arrancar.

"_Sonido_?" Grantz gasped as he turned around sharply, trying to figure out what the hell was going on. Striking out with one of his horns, Illeforte was in for another shock as the blow connected with Kaien's skin and stopped, scraping harmlessly against the surface like a sword-blow glancing off of an iron shield.

"_Hierro_? What the fuck?! What _are_ you, Soul Reaper?!"

Kaien lunged forward and put his hand right up against the Arrancar's forehead, where bright, red energy began to gather. Smirking, Shiba answered all of the questions running through his enemy's mind at once as his green eyes flashed maliciously.

"Let's just say you don't spend as many years as I did fused with an Arrancar without it rubbing off on you," he said, right before releasing the full-power, point-blank _cero_ and completely obliterating his enemy. As the smoke cleared, Kaien relaxed and let go of his Hollow powers, feeling the skin of his cheek to make sure it was pliable once again. Satisfied that he had completely shifted back to normal, Shiba flashed away to where he felt Kuchiki's reiatsu flaring sharply: it seemed like the request for the Limiter Seal release had finally come through.

* * *

Rukia stood across from the Arrancar who called himself Shawlong Qufang, her shoulder lacerated by the spiny claws that had grown on his hand when he'd released his zanpakuto. Trying to ignore the lightness that seemed to be creeping into her head as blood flowed from her wound, the young Kuchiki tightened her grip on Sode no Shirayuki and flew forward once again.

"I admire your spirit, child," the fraccion said right before he buzzed away, reemerging behind Rukia. "It is a shame that I must crush it, but I have no choice."

The violet-eyed Soul Reaper gasped in shock and pain as her other shoulder suddenly bore gashes to match her already-wounded one, blood spurting bright red from the new wounds. At this rate, she wasn't going to be able to move her arms, let alone fight with a sword or use _kido_. What was taking that Limiter release so damn long?

The Arrancar struck again, but this time the white blade intercepted Shawlong's claws right before they would have pierced her heart.

"Oh. You still have enough strength in you to block, child?" Qufang asked patronizingly. "Perhaps I misjudged you after all. Out of respect for your naïve tenacity, I will refrain from holding back any longer."

The fraccion's reiatsu rose and he renewed his assault, Rukia's blocks becoming more and more frantic and harried as she was pushed backwards by the sharp claw and stabbing tail. Just when she thought her sword was about to break in half from a particularly harsh attack, Kuchiki heard the magic words in her ear.

"Limiter Seal release has been granted! I repeat, Seal release has been granted! The use of full force is authorized!"

Rukia smiled through the pain that burned in her arms, raising her hand up sharply.

"_Hado number 31: Shakkaho_!"

Qufang used _sonido_ to escape the spell, reappearing a few feet away unharmed. Scoffing, he narrowed his one visible eye.

"Why did you attempt such a pitiful attack, child?" he taunted. "You should have known that, in your current condition, such a spell as that could not even scratch me."

"I wasn't trying to scratch you," Rukia hissed as she parted the upper folds of her uniform just enough to reveal a black tattoo of a snowdrop on her chest. "I was buying enough time to do this. Limit Seal, release!"

"Limit… Seal?" Shawlong repeated in confusion, before he was shocked into silence by the sudden eruption of power from the Soul Reaper in front of him.

"Let me explain something, so you can stop looking so foolish," Kuchiki said smugly. "When we Soul Reapers enter the Human World, we have a seal put on our powers to keep us from disturbing the order of things in this dimension. When that seal is in place, our powers are cut down to 20 percent of their maximum. In other words," the warrior finished as she brandished Sode no Shirayuki once more,

"I'm now five times stronger than I was before releasing my Limit Seal. _Some no Mai: Tsuki Shiro!_"

Rukia flash-stepped right next to Shawloing as she released the attack, and only a split-second usage of _sonido_ saved the Arrancar from being frozen solid. The move did catch one of his arms, however, which promptly shattered into countless glittering white shards.

"Damn you, brat," the fraccion growled. "You presume to crush me, the oldest of the numeros outside of the Espada, with such a cheap trick as that? Don't make me laugh!"

Not responding to the taunt, Rukia waited for the next attack to come with muscles tensed. When the tail whipped around and struck again, she dodged to the side, grabbed it, and spoke.

"_Hado number 13: Tsuzuri Raiden!_"

Lightning arced out from her hand and was conducted by the Arrancar's tail, traveling swiftly up it and electrocuting Shawlong.

"Why… won't you just… die?!" Qufang shouted, yanking his tail back and pulling Rukia along with it before striking out again with his clawed hand, fingers bunched together and aimed for her ribcage. The violet-eyed Soul Reaper blocked the attack, but the fatigue of the battle pressed down on her and Rukia's guard wavered. The blade of Sode no Shirayuki broke in half as the appendages pushed through and hit home, puncturing her skin and embedding themselves in her lungs.

"Sh—it…" she cursed, coughing up blood as pain ripped through her, followed closely by rage. She had released her Limiter, and she still couldn't kill this bastard? Why? Why wasn't she strong enough?! At this rate, she would never be able to fight against the rest of Aizen's army. She would never be able to help bring Ichigo back home safely, to where he truly belonged.

Feeling a familiar reiatsu appear nearby, Rukia looked up and saw Kaien perched on a nearby roof, his expression concerned. It looked like he was about to intervene, but Kuchiki gave him a pleading look to remain on the sidelines. He nodded shortly, but communicated wordlessly that if it got much worse, he wasn't going to hold back for the sake of her pride.

Newfound determination welled up within the violet-eyed Soul Reaper and she gripped her broken sword once more, pressing the truncated blade up against Shawlong's chest. She was going to show Kaien-dono that she could win this fight, even if she had to use her trump card to do it.

"_San no Mai: Shirafune!_"

Qufang's eye widened in shock as the broken zanpakuto re-forged itself, impaling the Arrancar through the heart. As he melted away, the adrenaline that had been keeping Rukia upright left her behind and she fell, only to be caught seconds later by the strong arms of her Lieutenant.

"Easy, Kuchiki," he said softly, "easy. You'll be all right; you fought well."

"Don't… lie to me, Kaien-dono," she forced out over the blood that was filling her lungs. "I had to… use _Shirafune_ to beat him… I should be stronger than that… at full power…"

"Shhh," the Lieutenant said insistently, frustration giving his worried voice an edge. "Don't waste your breath saying such pointless things, Kuchiki; he was an incredibly powerful opponent, and I would be surprised if even Captain Hitsugaya could have beaten him without his bankai active and seal released."

"But he wasn't even… one of the Espada, was he?" Rukia asked, and Kaien shook his head as he gently healed his student's wounds with _kido_.

"Let us hope," Shiba said gravely as he finished patching up the violet-eyed Soul Reaper and put her back on her own two feet, "that we don't run into any of those bastards for a long, long time. Now let's get going," he finished, "we should probably meet up with Captain Soi Fon and take stock of our situation."

Nodding in agreement, the young Kuchiki flashed away with her teacher.

* * *

Ichimaru had decided, in a gesture of his "infinite capacity for mercy," as he called it, to not beat Ichigo to a pulp with his zanpakuto this time around. Instead, he used _kido_ exclusively, and expected Ichigo to do the same to him.

Of course, this proved to be quite a problematic arrangement when it came to light that, if there were a negative scale for measuring _kido_ ability, Ichigo's would be firmly placed at -500.

"Come on, this is just sad," Hichigo jeered from the sidelines. "You can't even pull off a _byakurai_? Are you kidding? I can bypass a _raikoho_ in my sleep… at times like this, I can't believe I used to be a part of you, brother."

"Shut… up!" Ichigo growled while rolling away to dodge a _soukatsui_, ash on his face from a _shakkaho_ that had backfired on him, Renji-style. After he had finished snorting in disapproval, Gin spoke up while firing off a _tenran_ that blew Ichigo clean off of his feet.

"You're trying too hard, Ichigo," he said sharply. "You have to let the energy flow naturally from your soul; you can't force it out or you'll never be able to cast the first _hado_, let alone the harder ones like _kurohitsugi_."

Kurosaki's eyebrow rose in confusion.

"_Kuro…hitsugi_?" he repeated slowly. "What's that?"

"Ooh, ooh!" Hichigo broke in excitedly, like a kid who had just opened up his first Christmas present. "_Hado number 90_," he explained once he'd calmed down. "It's one of the most painful _Hado_ spells that exists. It traps you in a dark cube of energy, before stabbing you from all sides with dozens of energy spears. At full power, it could outright kill a Captain in one shot!" he finished, a positively homicidal gleam shining in his eyes. Ichimaru grinned.

"Well, it looks like _someone's_ been doing their homework, at least," he said.

"It's a personal favorite of mine," the Hollow replied casually, as if admiring a spell with that much destructive potential was not a sign of insanity. Ichigo was about to break back in when he felt something lurch deep within his soul, an instinctive, primal feeling that put him completely on edge. He couldn't explain how he felt it or why, but at that moment he knew, beyond any doubt, that Rukia was in grave danger.

She was about to die.

"I gotta go!" he called out, grabbing Hichigo by his collar and pulling him along, the Hollow complaining and cursing all the way. "Sorry, Ichimaru-sensei," the Soul Reaper shouted over his shoulder, "but we'll have to finish this some other time!"

Gin just watched the boy go with an exasperated look in his eyes. That girl was going to be the death of him, there was no doubt about that; he just hoped that Ichigo didn't die before they had the chance to topple Aizen once and for all.

* * *

Grimmjow and Soi Fon found themselves fighting a very peculiar kind of duel: neither of them wanted to strike the other's zanpakuto again, and so they would continuously dodge each other's attacks while launching half-hearted counters of their own.

"This is just stupid," Soi Fon spat as she twisted out of the way of a jab from Pantera. "You look ridiculous fighting like that, Arrancar."

"You're one to talk, kid," Grimmjow snarled back. "I thought there was some kind of law making it forbidden for people under six feet to carry swords?"

"Are you calling me short, you bastard!?"

Grimmjow smirked.

"And if I am…?"

Dark eyes gleamed murderously.

"I'll kill you!"

Jaegerjaques just scoffed.

"As if you could, Shaolin," he taunted, before he almost swallowed his tongue as he stopped speaking suddenly, both his and Soi Fon's eyes widening simultaneously.

"What did you just call me?" She said softly, almost sounding scared. "How do you know that name? Answer me, you bastard!"

"I… don't… _know_!" Grimmjow shouted back, grabbing her by her shoulder with his free hand and pulling her towards him, frustration at the whole screwed-up situation driving his actions. But he underestimated his own strength, and the two of them collided with no small amount of force. As the Espada looked down into the smoky eyes no more than inches from his own, he felt them swallow him up as the fragmented images once again supplanted reality.

_A moonlit night, sitting on the grass and looking up at the stars._

_It's breaking the rules, but neither of them have ever cared about those._

_Out here, they're safe from the cold concrete of the walls, and the petty pride of the bullies that prey upon them._

_Out here, their cage may still hold them, but for a moment, one blissful moment, as they look into each other's eyes…_

_They are free._

Just as quickly as the vision had come it vanished, leaving both the Captain and the Espada breathing hard and now more confused than ever. Their zanpakuto hadn't even touched… so why the hell had that happened?

Not even bothering to think about it anymore, the two of them inched closer and closer, feeling almost drawn in by a force outside of their control…

Right before they connected, though, the tense atmosphere was broken by a cough that was not without a hint of amusement.

"Am I interrupting something, Captain?" Kaien spoke out. Her face shifting from nervous to mortified in an instant, Soi Fon shoved Grimmjow away and spun around to face the now-grinning Lieutenant.

"I don't know what the fuck you think you saw, Shiba," she hissed, her anger at being caught red-handed compounded by her frustration over not being able to finish what had just been started, "but let's get one thing clear right now: if anyone asks, you saw _nothing_." She raised the finger bearing Suzumebachi up into the moonlight to make a point, and Kaien chuckled before waving her off.

"Hey, whatever floats your boat, Captain," he said. "Hell, I was _part_ of an Arrancar for I don't know how long; it'd be kind of weird if I judged you for this."

"I don't follow, Lieutenant," Soi Fon hissed, tacitly implying that if Kaien wanted to live, it would be in his best interest to shut up right that instant. He got the hint, but couldn't keep from saying one last thing to Grimmjow.

"I'd be careful of her, if I were you," he said. "This hornet's got a hell of a sting."

The Captain was about to lunge at the Lieutenant, but stopped in her tracks when the other Soul Reapers emerged around her.

"Kaien-dono," Rukia gasped, "don't flash-step so quickly! I'm still healing!"

"Sorry about that," he said apologetically, before looking around at the scene in front of him. Renji, Ikkaku, and Rukia were all looking to Soi Fon for orders, who in turn looked like she wanted a thunderbolt to strike her dead that instant.

And just when Shiba thought the situation couldn't get any tenser, a _garganta_ opened up behind Grimmjow and Ichigo stepped out, _bankai_ at the ready. Clearly, he was more than determined to annihilate anyone who dared to injure Rukia, despite any damage the recoil of his newfound _bankai_ might cause. The gathered Soul Reapers' eyes widened even further as Hichigo stepped out from behind Ichigo, his zanpakuto still just in _shikai_ but nonetheless radiating killing intent.

Ichigo looked over at Rukia and broke the silence, concern lacing every word.

"Are you all right, Rukia?" he asked. The violet-eyed Kuchiki wanted to shout at him, to cry, to scream, to punch him, to kiss him and many other things besides, but all she could do in that moment was nod dumbly. That was enough, though, as Ichigo's frown was replaced by a weary smile and he turned to Grimmjow.

"Jeez, man," he said exasperatedly, "I leave you alone for five minutes, and this is what happens? I'd look for a leash for you or something, but I don't think they make ones for cats your size."

Jaegerjaques growled and looked over at his comrade murderously, while Soi Fon had to fight down the strangest urge to laugh. _What the hell…?_

"Captain Soi Fon," Ikkaku spoke out, breaking through her thoughts, "permission to engage?"

Soi Fon was about to give it, but then Ichigo and his Hollow counterpart both powered up, silencing the order in her throat.

"Look, we're both rested and ready to fight," Ichigo said calmly, "and most of you guys are torn up, beaten down or still healing. I have no desire to fight any of you," he finished, locking pleading eyes with Rukia, "so please, don't make me."

Soi Fon nodded, turning to her troops.

"We've done enough fighting for tonight," she said crisply, recovering her poise. "Fall back for now, and see to your wounds."

Renji in particular looked like he was about to be insubordinate as hatred flared in his eyes, but as every other fighter backed off he was compelled to as well. As he left, though, he gave Ichigo a scathing glance that told his former friend their battle was far from over. The Soul Reapers all departed except for Rukia, who stayed behind, unwilling to let this chance slip through her fingers. Ichigo gave both Grimmjow and Hichigo a glance that told them to get lost for a few minutes and they took the hint, leaving the two Soul Reapers alone.

Rukia closed the gap between them slowly, almost hesitantly, as if she thought the Ichigo in front of her was a ghost that would vanish when she touched him. As she came within arm's length she stopped, reaching up and putting her hand gently on his cheek.

"Your eyes," she said after a few thunderous heartbeats. "What happened to your eyes?"

"It's a long story," he said with a weak smile, "but I'm fine, trust me; I can control my Hollow now. Everything's going to be fine."

For an instant, almost childlike naiveté lit up Rukia's face; the orange-haired boy knew what was going through her mind, and it almost broke his heart.

"If… if you can control it, then you can come back! You can stay with us, with me…" The young Kuchiki's plea stuck in her throat when she saw the look in those black-and-yellow eyes, at once loving, determined and heartbroken.

"You're staying with Aizen," she said, her hand still not leaving his cheek, "aren't you?"

"I have to finish this," he answered, putting his hand on top of her own. "If I don't do it, no one will."

"What about me?!" she shot back, her voice rising as it became more anguished, her hand slipping out from underneath his own. "What's wrong with me? Am I not strong enough? Is that it?!"

"Of course that's not it, you stupid midget!" Ichigo shouted, a torrent of emotions swelling up within his soul that threatened to crush him. "Do you have any idea what it was like for me that day I stopped the Soukyoku? Do you know what the only thing I could think of was?" he pressed, grabbing onto her shoulders with both hands. "All I could think of was what would happen if I failed," he continued, tears beginning to form in his eyes. "What would happen if I couldn't do it."

"But you always said…"

"I know, I know!" he cut off, his voice ragged. "'Don't say what'll happen if I fail, because that's not an option', right? Of course that's what I said, an usually I meant it, because that's what everyone was looking to me to say. But I'm just a teenager, Rukia! I'm not some great hero, or some fucking war veteran. That's why I need to do this myself, don't you get it? I can't just lose the people I love and move on!"

Rukia's eyes widened as she processed what she had just heard.

"Are you…" she said softly, "are you saying you love me, too, Ichigo?"

The orange-haired Soul Reaper smiled tiredly.

"Can you just not hear me down there, midget?" he quipped. "That's exactly what I said."

The violet-eyed Soul Reaper gave a huge smile and jumped up into Ichigo's arms, wrapping her legs around his waist and locking her heels to anchor herself before kissing him so fervently that Ichigo thought he was going to pass out.

"I promise you I'll stay safe," she said seriously after they'd broken apart and caught their breath, "but you have to swear to me that you won't throw your life away doing something stupid."

"Don't worry, Rukia," Ichigo said gently, running his forefinger along her cheek, "I'll come back to you. That's a promise."

"I'll be waiting," she spoke as she disengaged herself, giving her loved one a quick kiss on the lips before turning around and walking away. As Ichigo blinked and tried to recover, a pair of joking voices pulled him out of his thoughts.

"Why didn't you seal the deal?" the blue-eyed Espada jeered.

"He must not swing that way, Grimmjow," Hichigo whispered just loud enough so that Ichigo could hear it.

"Yeah, I think I agree," Jaegerjaques chimed in, as a vein in Ichigo's forehead became more and more visible by the moment. "I mean, did you see her? She almost strangled him! I just hope that Renji guy doesn't make a move tonight, or the carrot-top is screwed!"

"Would you two shut the fuck up!?" Ichigo shouted, as his two warrior comrades cackled like hyenas. Kurosaki sighed, biting back the urge to massacre the pair of them right then and there.

"Let's just go," he said, as he opened a _garganta_, trying not to sound worried. "I don't know about Aizen, but Tosen's furious with you."

"Fuck him," Grimmjow spat as the three warriors began the journey back to Las Noches. "I can handle Tosen."

* * *

As they stood before Aizen, who had taken up residence on his throne for the occasion, Ichigo could feel the anger radiating from the blind Soul Reaper nearby. When Grimmjow failed to address Sosuke with an honorific, which he'd never done before anyway, Kaname snapped.

"Please, Aizen-sama," he said, "give me permission to execute him!"

Aizen, oddly, did not look at Tosen, but was looking square into Ichigo's eyes with an incredibly searching gaze as he spoke.

"Go ahead, Kaname," the former Captain said, smiling ever so slightly as Ichigo connected the dots and the Soul Reaper's still-yellow eyes hardened in hatred,

"Kill him."

Grimmjow's blue eyes widened in shock at the decision just moments before Suzumushi rose and fell, a head hitting the ground immediately afterwards.

* * *

**A/N:** This chapter is the longest one I've written yet, and will be the longest one I write for a while; I just felt that every scene in here had to be included. I hope you enjoyed it, apologies for the super-cliffhanger, and as always, **please review**!


	11. Scar Tissue

**Disclaimer:** I do not own Bleach, or any of its characters. Tite Kubo does.

**Torn**

**Chapter 11:** Scar Tissue

* * *

The main hall of Las Noches was completely still, and for once even Nnoitra wasn't smiling at the sight before him. Suzumushi fell to the ground with a clatter, followed immediately afterwards by the head of Kaname Tosen. Grimmjow's eyes, still wide with shock as they realized that they could still see, looked over to behold the figure of Ichigo Kurosaki. The Soul Reaper was half-crouched, having just completed the fatal sword-stroke that had cut off the head of the blind former Captain. A single drop of blood slid down the edge of his bone-white _bankai_'s blade, hitting the ground and echoing with the noise of a thunderclap in the silent room.

Aizen's smile widened as he looked down at the orange-haired warrior, whose yellow eyes stared back up at him with the purest expression of hatred Sosuke had seen in a long time.

"How does it feel, Ichigo," he asked, his voice laced with twisted amusement, "to have taken your first life?"

Ichigo didn't say anything for a few long moments, and when he finally did speak his voice was hollow.

"His life… you threw it away, just like that?"

"I would not say that I threw it away, Ichigo," the Soul Reaper replied casually. "Kaname had outlived his usefulness to me. You might call it a courtesy that I allowed his last act to be one of such great importance; just like the mythical phoenix, my new Lieutenant will rise from the ashes of the old."

Kurosaki could feel the edges of his vision begin to cloud as the enormity of what he had just done finally settled over him like some great, inescapable gloom. Even though he had done it to save Grimmjow's life, the fact remained that he had killed someone and that Aizen had manipulated him into doing it. Ichigo felt sickened, used and utterly powerless as he staggered from the hall, fighting down the urge to vomit.

"That kid is going need some serious therapy by the time this is all over," Szayel Aporro Grantz opined, and some of the Espada nodded slightly in agreement while others just shrugged.

"I just hope he's got the balls to pull off taking Tosen's place," Nnoitra spoke up. "I'm not gonna follow that brat into battle if he's just going to make stupid decisions and get us all massacred, even if he does have what it takes to kill after all."

Neliel snorted in disgust and rose from her seat sharply, buzzing away with _sonido_. Grimmjow, for his part, didn't even spare Aizen a glance as he walked slowly out of the room. The former Captain had made it abundantly clear that he saw the Espada as nothing more than pawns and means to an end, and Jaegerjaques would die before showing someone like that an ounce of respect.

"Well," Aizen said after the tense moments had passed, "I believe that concludes our meeting. From this point onwards, please treat Ichigo Kurosaki with all of the deference you show me: as of right now, he outranks each and every one of you," the Soul Reaper finished evenly, finishing up his cup of tea as the Espada dispersed.

* * *

Nel walked towards Ichigo's reiatsu with a rising sense of dread, afraid of what she might find as the haunted look he had been wearing earlier flashed through her mind. Taking a deep breath, the Espada rounded the final corner and stood in front of the door to the orange-haired Soul Reaper's room. She was about to knock, but when Neliel saw the state the boy was in she walked quickly over to his side, sitting down next to him on his bed as Ichigo stared blankly at the wall.

"I killed him," Kurosaki said softly, almost as if he was begging the Espada next to him to prove him wrong. Realizing that it was best for him to get everything off of his chest before she did anything, however, Nel stayed silent.

"I didn't have a choice," he continued, his voice rife with desperate rationalization. "If I hadn't done it, Grimmjow would be dead right now. Aizen never gave me a choice… God," he said desperately, looking at his hands as if they were covered in blood, "what have I done?"

Neliel reached over and took the young Soul Reaper's hands gently in one of her own, using the other to turn his head gently towards her.

"You did nothing wrong," she said softly, but insistently. "Look at me, Ichigo," the Espada said with quiet force as the Soul Reaper tried to avoid her gaze for a few heartbeats, before bringing his brown eyes up slowly to meet with her pale-golden orbs once again.

"You did what you had to do to save your friend," Neliel continued. "Aizen may have manipulated the situation to suit his own terms, but if you keep seeing yourself as powerless, that bastard's already won. What you did, you did on your own terms, following your own conscience.

"Do you understand that, Ichigo? Aizen holds only as much power over you as you let him; do _not_ let his illusions and mindgames break you before his sword is even drawn, or any hope you have of bringing him down shatters as well."

Ichigo was silent for a few moments, looking almost blankly into the face in front of him. Suddenly, it was as if the Soul Reaper came to some kind of decision and he shifted forward, drawing the Espada into an embrace. Neliel got over her shock at the unusual gesture of vulnerability and reciprocated, trying to convey as much comfort as she could to the troubled warrior even as she felt the innocence bleed out of him. After a few moments Ichigo pulled back, the warmth that had been so evident in his eyes now sealed under layers and layers of emotional armor.

"Thank you, Nel," he said softly, in one last act of openness. "Thank you."

"Kid," she said seriously, "you'll never have to thank me." As she rose to her feet and prepared to _sonido_ away from the room, Neliel stole one last look at Ichigo's face and comprehension flashed into her eyes.

That outwardly cold, determined gaze hiding the fragile emotions underneath it was eerily similar to Ulquiorra's, but with one key difference: Ichigo still possessed the inner fire kindled by the desire to protect something, his reason for fighting. Ulquiorra had no such reason, no such desire; that deficiency was what had extinguished the strength that had once shone deep within his emerald eyes.

A small smile rose on her face before she vanished with a buzz, off to jolt the Fourth Espada out of his permanent melancholy. If Schiffer didn't have a reason to fight, Neliel would be more than happy to give him one.

As he felt Neliel's reiatsu leave the room, Grimmjow waited a few more moments before entering. A companionable silence settled in between the two warriors, broken a few moments later by the Espada's gruff voice.

"You didn't have to do that, you know," he said.

"Yes I did," the Soul Reaper replied simply, and Grimmjow chuckled.

"You're an idiot, kid," the Espada spoke shortly, and Ichigo smirked.

"No, Grimmjow," he answered, "I'm your friend."

The Arrancar's eyes widened slightly at the declaration, before returning to normal as he smiled.

"You're still an idiot, Ichigo," Grimmjow answered, before yawning widely. "Shit, I'm tired," he said. "I'm gonna go grab some shut-eye; catch ya tomorrow."

"See ya," the Soul Reaper replied, waiting until his room was empty once again before falling on his back with a sigh. He wasn't naive enough to think that he would never kill again; after all, he was going to be the one to strike down Aizen, but in that moment Ichigo promised himself that the next time his sword took a life it would be on his terms, and no one else's.

* * *

Rukia struggled to control her whirling emotions as she slipped though the front door of the Kurosaki household using the spare key; the young Kuchiki was trying to make as little noise as possible to avoid waking up Karin and Yuzu. The two twins had been through a rough time since Ichigo had left and gone to Hueco Mundo, and they needed all of the rest they could get. School, after all, was still being held the next day.

Sighing, the violet-eyed Soul Reaper couldn't help but feel responsible for the gaping hole in the Kurosaki family's domestic life. Ichigo had left to learn how to control his Inner Hollow to keep from hurting her again, in the hopes that one day, when the war was over, they could be together. And now that original intent had turned into a need to overthrow Sosuke Aizen himself, the most powerful Soul Reaper in eons.

"Stop beating yourself up, Rukia," Isshin's deep voice called out softly from the living room, "and come have some hot cocoa."

Alternately ashamed at being caught and thankful for the chance to unwind after a very hectic day, Kuchiki padded softly into the room and accepted a mug from Isshin before sitting down in an armchair, gazing thoughtfully into the fire across from her.

"So, how's my boy?" the patriarch asked, and Rukia took a sip of the warming beverage before replying, reveling in the feeling of warmth creeping into her fingertips.

"Stubborn, as always," she answered, her eyebrows furrowing into a slight frown that reminded Isshin of his son's, although he tactfully refrained from mentioning that.

"He wouldn't be Ichigo if he wasn't," the older man replied, taking a pull from his own mug. "Sometimes I wonder where he gets it from, honestly. Must've been Masaki."

"What was she like?" Rukia asked softly, not wanting to open up any old wounds but pushed on by her curiosity; despite the obvious place Ichigo's mother still held in his heart, Kuchiki knew almost nothing about her.

"Masaki was… a lot of things," Isshin spoke after a few heartbeats of silence. "She lived every moment to its fullest, and always looked to Ichigo, Karin and Yuzu before worrying about herself. She could be the most kind-hearted woman I've ever known, but if you got between her and the kids, she could make an angry Retsu Unohana look like a cute, cuddly teddy bear in comparison."

Rukia shuddered involuntarily at the image of something that fearsome, before realizing that if she ever had kids, she would probably go to whatever lengths it took to protect them. Pushing that thought aside to keep a blush from rising to her face, the Soul Reaper took the opportunity to ask the elder Kurosaki another question.

"Kurosaki-san," she began, "how do you know so much about us? Soul Reapers, I mean."

Isshin's mouth curled up into a conspiratorial smile, and all of a sudden a brief surge of reiatsu sprung up that was so strong it almost knocked Kuchiki breathless. As soon as it had come the power vanished, and the elder Kurosaki's smile widened.

"How do you think?" he said smugly, and Rukia's mouth dropped open in surprise as she connected the dots.

"You're… you're a Soul Reaper?!" she half shouted, and Isshin quickly motioned for her to be quiet.

"Former, technically," the patriarch said after a moment. "It's a long story, one which I'll tell you when the time is right. For now, though," he finished seriously, "I'm trusting you to keep this a secret, Rukia."

The violet-eyed Kuchiki nodded, finished her drink and walked softly upstairs. As she fell asleep, Rukia felt relieved that she had come one step closer to fully understanding the enigma that was Ichigo Kurosaki.

* * *

Despite his earlier statement, Grimmjow was finding it very, very hard to get some sleep. Every time he would close his eyes and slip into a dream, those strange visions would rise up and shock him awake. The Espada couldn't figure out what the hell they meant if his life depended on it, but they were as clear as the reality he lived in every day. The most recent vision was so intense that Grimmjow had gotten up out of bed, abandoning the idea of sleep completely. As he paced through the halls of Las Noches like a caged panther, the strange vision raced across his mind.

* * *

"Oy, whore bastard," the big, bulky meathead of a thug grunted out, "why haven't you fixed your hair yet?"

"Fixed?" the blue-haired adolescent shot back. "What the fuck're you blabbering about? There's nothin' wrong with it."

Once the comeback had sunk into the bigger boy's thick skull, he barked out a curse and swung a punch at the scrappy, blue-eyed boy. Dodging deftly, he counterattacked with a vicious uppercut that knocked the bulky thug flat on his ass. The blue-haired boy rubbed his knuckles ruefully as he felt the ache deep down in the joints, but he smiled anyway when he saw the dark bruise on the thug's jaw that signified it was probably broken.

"Grimmjow Jaegerjaques!" a loud, haggard voice called over to him, before a large hand grabbed him by the scruff of his neck. "How many times am I going to have to punish you before you stop antagonizing your peers?"

The boy chuckled bitterly at the notion that he had been the antagonist, but he was far from shocked; this was how it played out every time. As he looked over, the blue-eyed youth saw that the owner of the loud voice, the overlord known only as 'Mr. Shiya,' had released his grip and was currently helping the heavyset thug to his feet.

"Oh, thank you, Mr. Shiya," the boy was saying, the melodramatic emphasis in his voice forcing Grimmjow to repress the sudden desire to explosively eviscerate him. "Thank you! I was just minding my business, and then Grimmjow came up out of nowhere and almost bro—oww…" he broke off, clutching his jaw dramatically. As Mr. Shiya turned to give Jaegerjaques a dirty look, the thug shot the blue-haired boy a victorious grin and gave him the finger.

"Okay, Grimmjow," Mr. Shiya intoned gravely, "enough is enough. If you can't keep your fists to yourself, I'm going to throw you into solitary confinement for a week, _again_, until you finally learn some basic self-control. I will not have this orphanage ripped apart by animals like you, boy!"

Sparing the bully one last snarl and swearing terrible vengeance with every fiber of his being, Grimmjow allowed himself to be led away to 'The Cube', or the cell designated for particularly troublesome boys and girls who were dumb or brash enough to actually get caught breaking the rules.

A week passed in almost complete silence, apart from the occasional appearance of food through a slat in the door and the faint scratches on the wall as Jaegerjaques used a rock to continue an etching he had started a while back. The light that flooded The Cube when the door was opened at long last would have been just short of blinding for a normal person. The blue-haired boy knew what was coming, however, and closed his eyes briefly, taking a deep breath and focusing himself before opening them gradually.

"You're free to go, Grimmjow," the gentle voice of the man who ran The Cube called out. Mr. Oyama was a kind man, and he and Grimmjow had formed a sort of unspoken connection over time. "One of these days you're gonna find something you don't want to lose, kid," the man continued, "and I won't see your face around these parts anymore. When that happens, I'll be able to retire happy."

"Don't hold your breath, Old Man," Jaegerjaques said with a hint of a smile, tapping knuckles with Oyama in a gesture of farewell. "See ya when I se ya!"

"Suit yourself," the man mumbled wearily as he turned back to his newspaper with a sigh.

Grimmjow rounded the corner with a slight spring in his step and saw a sight that made the blood rush to his head in rage so quickly his hair almost changed color. The bastard bully from a week ago had apparently found himself a new target to fill the void Grimmjow had left, but that wasn't all.

This target was a girl. And she was new from the looks of it, carrying herself with an optimism that had not yet beaten down by the predator-prey existence of the orphanage. As she defended herself with a weak block while blows battered her from all directions, the blue-haired boy cracked his knuckles and realized that he might be seeing Old Man Oyama much sooner than he had previously thought.

"Back the fuck off of her!" he growled, and the lead thug turned around to face him with a malicious glint in his eye. Grimmjow noted with satisfaction that his jaw was still bruised, but now wasn't the time for gloating.

"Oh, I'm sorry, whore-brat," he crowed. "Is this bitch your girlfriend? If she is, I should at least show her what a good time really feels like before I beat her into a coma." To punctuate his point, the thug dragged the tip of his tongue across the dark-haired girl's cheek. To her credit, Grimmjow noticed, she didn't cower or moan. Instead, she shot the brute the iciest look of hatred the blue-eyed boy had ever seen.

"You bastard…" Jaegerjaques seethed, nothing in front of him but oversized punching bags. Charging forward, the boy let loose with every single ounce of fury that had been stagnating over the past week, breaking bones left and right with punches, kicks and almost-feral scratches. A few moments later the gang lay prone and groaning on the floor, but as Grimmjow moved forward to deal the final blow to the thug, a slender hand reached out and latched onto his wrist with surprising strength. Turning around, his blue eyes met with her smoky, lustrous onyx eyes for the first time.

"Allow me," she said in a voice that managed to send shivers of both fear and some other, foreign feeling down his spine at the same time. It was electrifying, and all Jaegerjaques could do was nod.

The girl stepped forward, looked down hatefully at the boy who had accosted her and delivered a series of kicks to his groin so vicious that Grimmjow winced out of empathy, despite his intense loathing of the boy. When she was done, the girl turned back around to face Grimmjow and brushed a sweaty strand of hair out of her eyes before extending her other hand in greeting.

"I'm Shaolin," she said in that voice, and Jaegerjaques' tongue all but stuck to the roof of his mouth, "Shaolin Fon. What's your name?"

Blinking his eyes a few times, Grimmjow hoped he wouldn't look like a stuttering idiot and spoke.

"Grimmjow Jaegerjaques," he said, and Shaolin raised a curious eyebrow.

"Really?" she said, and the enchantment on the blue-eyed boy was all-but broken as indignation rose up from the pit of his stomach.

"Yeah, it is," he said as fiercely as he could in his current state. "You got a problem with that?"

The dark-haired girl shook her head adamantly at the question.

"Oh, no, not at all," she replied. "It just… caught me by surprise, is all. I thought I was the only one around with an odd name. I guess that's what I get for having a dad who's obsessed with kung-fu movies, though," she finished with a chuckle, and Grimmjow couldn't keep a small smile from forming on his lips.

"What about you?" she asked. "Where does a name like 'Grimmjow' come from?"

The blue-eyed boy didn't know why, but there was something about this girl that told him he could trust her with the history of his name.

"My father was a soldier," he said. "'Grimjaw' was his callsign, but the stupid doctor wrote it down wrong on my birth certificate. Jeagerjaques was my mother's last name, a French one. She was a… a 'lady of negotiable affection,' as my dad used to put it."

"So that's why that asshole called you a 'whore-brat', huh?"

"Yeah," Grimmjow sighed, "that's me. Fifty percent army brat, fifty percent whore child and one hundred percent lost cause."

"I wouldn't say that," Shaolin said slyly in that voice of hers and with a glint in her eye, the combination causing Grimmjow's stomach to lurch. "After all, I think I just found a cause for you, Grimmjow Jaegerjaques."

"Oh?" the blue-eyed boy parried, a similar glint growing in his eye. "And what would that be, Shaolin Fon?"

The dark-eyed girl smiled wickedly and Grimmjow knew he was done for.

"You're going to teach me how to fight," she finished, and once again all Grimmjow could do was nod, a goofy grin on his face as the pair parted ways and went to their separate rooms.

Maybe this place wasn't so bad after all.

* * *

As the vivid vision finally left him in peace, Grimmjow found himself out on a balcony, staring across the vast plain of Hueco Mundo's blasted desert. He had no idea what he was looking for, but he knew that he had to sort out these visions and discover what they meant before he went insane. As he turned away from the moon, however, he couldn't help but wonder if Shaolin was having an equally restless night.

* * *

**A/N: **There was originally going to be an UlquiNel scene at the end of this chapter, but I thought the flashback was a good stopping point. It also lets me start off the next chapter on a lighter note, so there you go. I hope you enjoyed it, and as always, **please review**!

Also, if you guys are looking for an awesome story to read, check out '**Blood and Ashes**' by MatsuMama; it's a Gin/Matsu/Hitsu fic that's ultimately Hitsu/Matsu and it's absolutely fantastic. It's a crime that a story this well-written has under 150 reviews... you guys should check it out and help rectify that.


	12. Shades of Gray

**Disclaimer:** I do not own Bleach, or any of its characters, Tite Kubo does. I do, however, own this story.

**Torn**

**Chapter 12: **Shades of Gray

* * *

Driven by her renewed desire to break through Ulquiorra's shell and figure out what was keeping him so permanently melancholic, Neliel soon found herself in front of the door to the Fourth Espada's room. It was a place she almost never visited; even though all of the rooms in Las Noches were more or less the same, plain white marble, something about Schiffer's quarters just felt… lifeless.

Peering into the dwelling, the Third Espada was surprised to see her comrade sleeping. Usually he was the dictionary definition of an insomniac, spending hours standing on his balcony and staring wordlessly out at the moon. This was interesting, most interesting.

Part of her felt guilty about waking Ulquiorra up, but Nel also knew that the best way to get him to open up would be to shock him first, knock him off-kilter. As she crept up silently, intent on jolting the Fourth Espada awake, the green-haired Arrancar found her master plan derailed by a single, deadpanned question.

"What are you doing here, Neliel?"

Freezing in place like a kid who'd had her hand caught in the cookie-jar, the Third Espada huffed and blew a stay bunch of hair out of her face in exasperation. At least he'd dropped the stupid honorific; that was a start.

"Were you even asleep?" she asked, and for a brief moment she thought she heard something like a chuckle come from Ulquiorra.

"I was," Schiffer replied evenly, "but your footsteps are so loud they might as well be Yammy's."

Neliel's eyes narrowed as the full implication sunk in.

"Are you saying I'm fat, Ulqui-kun?" she hissed dangerously, and if Nel could have seen Ulquiorra's face in that moment, she would have noticed that the corner of his mouth twitched up into the smallest of smirks.

"So easy…" he mumbled as he turned over, now lying on his side rather than on his back. The Third Espada's eyes went from narrow to wide in shock as she realized that Ulquiorra had been messing with her. Ulquiorra joking was like Aizen having an epiphany, repenting all of his sins and becoming a Holy Man; it just didn't happen.

"What's with you?" she asked, and Schiffer's reply came out in a mumble.

"I could ask you the same question, Neliel."

The green-haired Espada arched a curious eyebrow.

"How so?"

"Look at yourself," the Fourth Espada replied coldly. "Here you are, sneaking into my room in the dead of night and trying to catch me off-guard just so you can get a rise out of me. Why? What are you looking for?"

Infuriated by the chilled, indifferent tone, the apathy that seemed to drip from every word, Nel finally snapped as her calm exterior peeled away to reveal the warrior with the strength to merit her position as Third Espada.

"You know exactly what I'm looking for, Ulquiorra," she growled. "I'm looking for you, the _real_ you!"

Before Neliel could even blink, dark green eyes were boring into her own. Schiffer had moved from his bed to within a foot of her so quickly that the shock of his sudden proximity took her breath away.

"What you see now is what I am, Neliel," Ulquiorra said calmly as the moonlight cast an ethereal glow around the tattoo that was proof of his rank. "I have no reason to hide anything from anyone."

"Liar."

The accusation rang with the strength of a gunshot in the empty room, and Schiffer raised an eyebrow ever-so-slightly.

"What was that?" he asked, a blatant undercurrent of menace in his voice that almost made Neliel back down. Almost.

"I believe I said you were a liar, Ulquiorra," she hissed. "You say you have no reason to hide from anyone, and yet ever since you became an Arrancar you've been hiding from yourself."

Completely counter to her expectations, Schiffer's reiatsu suddenly flared, the surge forcing the female Arrancar's back up against the wall.

"What do you want from me?" Ulquiorra said in a slightly-raised voice that might as well have been a shout. "Do you want me to walk up to Aizen and stab him in the chest, in some suicidally heroic gesture? Why the hell do you even care what happens to me?"

"Because…" Neliel began, her throat hitching for a moment before she pressed on, "Because you meant something to me, once."

Any emotional fire that had blazed in Ulquiorra's eyes moments before died out faster than a match in a downpour, his emerald eyes losing their luster completely once again.

"Like I told you, Neliel," he shot back flatly, "that Ulquiorra is dead. You are chasing a dream, and nothing more. Now go, and pine for the past on your own time. I have no interest in pointless nostalgia."

The Third Espada felt the corners of her eyes sting, but she blinked back the tears and shoved past Schiffer before flashing away with a buzz. When he was alone, Ulquiorra tensed one of his fists and pounded it into the wall, an instinctive _bala_ forming around it and all-but annihilating the cool stone.

"God damn it, woman," he growled, before walking slowly out onto his balcony and raising his dark eyes to the moon.

* * *

Rukia felt a presence approaching and sat up in bed, throwing the sheets off of her and popping in a Soul Candy. Whatever it was touched down on the roof and stopped, as if it was waiting for her to appear. After she shook off her residual tiredness, the reiatsu became painfully familiar and the young Kuchiki grit her teeth.

This was _not_ going to be pleasant.

Flashing up to the roof of the Kurosaki household, Rukia faced down her surprise visitor and spoke out a terse greeting.

"What brings you here, Nii-sama? I thought they needed you in Soul Society."

"They can do without me for the moment," the elder Kuchiki said as he turned around, his hard eyes glinting like flint in the moonlight. "We need to talk."

"About what?" the violet-eyed Soul Reaper asked, feigning ignorance. She knew exactly why Byakuya had come, and had no desire to discuss what was assuredly on his mind.

"Ichigo Kurosaki," the Captain said coldly, and Rukia almost winced at the palpable hatred in his voice. "He is a traitor to Soul Society, and he must be destroyed."

"With all due respect, Nii-sama," Rukia parried as she fought to keep her voice calm, "I disagree. I think that Ichigo is still our best hope of defeating Aizen, whether Soul Society believes that or not."

"Your misguided infatuation for that boy is blinding your judgment, Rukia."

"My 'infatuation'?" she spat, unable to keep her rising rancor completely out of her voice. "It's more than that; much more. He _loves_ me, brother, and I him."

"You are but a child, Rukia," Byakuya answered with the same calm as always, "and can not claim to know of love."

"How can _you_ claim to know of it?" the younger Kuchiki practically snarled. "You haven't loved anyone since Lady Hisana—"

"_Bite your tongue, _Rukia_._"

The venom in the reply made the violet-eyed Soul Reaper shut her mouth so fast she almost sprained her jaw. Byakuya took a calming breath, pausing for a few heartbeats before continuing.

"I do not care if your impressionable mind believes that the boy loves you. Such blind affection is meaningless next to the stability of Soul Society as a whole. For your sake, however, I hope that you do not love him as you claim to, Rukia," the Captain finished, "because Kurosaki is a traitor, and anyone who stands beside him will perish as he does."

"When the time comes, I will stand with him," Rukia said, determination bleeding from every word. "Would you kill me then, Nii-sama? Would you strike me down?"

The Captain's hard eyes flared as he replied, the venom present earlier rising again.

"Pray that we never meet again," Byakuya half-hissed. "Because as of this moment, you are no longer my sister. Know that I have as few qualms with slitting the throat of a traitor as I do with destroying a Hollow, girl. Farewell."

With that, the Kuchiki Captain vanished into thin air and Rukia felt her legs begin to give way as the weight and finality of those words slammed into her like a hammer-blow. She knew that Byakuya would avoid that next encounter for as long as he could, but she also knew, from the look that had shone in his eyes, that he was serious about his threat. The next time they met, he really would fight her.

And she would die.

Collapsing to her knees, the violet-eyed Soul Reaper broke down as one of her few remaining pillars of support crumbled beneath her, leaving a void in her soul that would never really heal. She felt that much closer to being the forsaken rat again that she had been before meeting Renji all those years ago, and that terrified her. As she wept, Rukia felt another presence appear behind her, this one much warmer than Byakuya's had been. Strong hands gripped her shoulders gently and pulled Rukia to her feet, before she let herself be pulled into a comforting embrace.

"Don't worry, princess," Isshin said as the last tears eased themselves from her eyes, "don't worry. As long as my son and I are alive, you will never be alone. I promise you that."

Rukia turned around in the hug and reciprocated the gesture, holding on to Isshin like he was her last tether to life itself. As the elder Kurosaki waited patiently for the distraught Soul Reaper to calm down, his eyes looked off into the distance and became suffused with scorn.

_Byakuya, you little bastard,_ he thought. _How could you break your own sister's heart?_

* * *

The next morning dawned bright and cheery in the Human World. It was a stark contrast to the haggard look on Rukia's face as she lay in bed, red streaks down her cheeks and dark bags under her eyes. The last thing she wanted to do was move, let alone fight Hollows in duels to the death. Byakuya's parting words still echoed in her head, penetrating her heart like salt being ground into a wound. As she contemplated how to call in sick to someone like Soi Fon, a knock on the door of her room jolted her out of her thoughts.

"Come in," she called out weakly, assuming it was Yuzu or Karin. When a shock of dark, spiky hair poked into the room, followed by the rest of Kaien Shiba, Rukia's eyes went wide in shock and she shot up into a sitting position.

"K—Kaien-dono!?" she sputtered, the parts of her mind that still had enough energy to work taking a moment to reflect on how ridiculous she probably looked right now, decked out in children's pajamas. "What are you doing here?"

His look full of concern, the Lieutenant walked over slowly and sat down on the bed.

"You look like hell, Kuchiki," he said solicitously after a moment. "What did he say to you?"

Rukia arched a bewildered eyebrow.

"What did who say to me, Kaien-dono?"

Shiba's gaze turned serious.

"Your brother, Rukia. He was here last night, wasn't he?" The violet-eyed Soul Reaper nodded weakly. "So? What did he say to you?"

"He's going to kill me the next time he sees me," Rukia said ruefully, and Kaien smiled weakly.

"Well, I doubt he actually _meant_ it…" the Lieutenant began consolingly, before Rukia cut him off with a hard look.

"Have you ever known Byakuya to speak lightly of these types of matters, Kaien-dono?" Pausing for a moment to steady herself before diving back into the unpleasant memories of the last night, Rukia took a deep breath and recounted the entire exchange between herself and her former adoptive brother. By the time she had finished, the look of concern in Kaien's eyes had shifted into one of cold, focused rage.

"I'm going to kill him," the Soul Reaper ground out, but Rukia shook her head.

"This is my problem, Kaien-dono," she said, "and I'll deal with it, somehow. If you go up against Byakuya, _he'll_ kill _you_."

"Hey, it might not look like it, Kuchiki, but I have some tricks up my sleeves. Besides," he added in a sly tone, "I've been wanting to punch out that impertinent brat for at least a century. If you ask me, it's long overdue at this point."

Rukia let out a light chuckle at the thought of Kaien-dono knocking out Byakuya, but sighed as heavier thoughts made their presence known in her mind once again.

"What am I going to do if he tries to have me brought in on charges of treason, Kaien-dono?" the violet-eyed Soul Reaper asked, desperation creeping into her voice. "I don't think I can survive another execution."

"Don't be ridiculous, Kuchiki," Shiba replied with a scoff. "If anyone comes to bring you in, they'll have to go through me!" he finished, the typical Kaien bravado in his voice as he puffed his chest out dramatically. Rukia laughed genuinely at that, the ghost of a smile on her face.

"It's nice to know that at least one person is on my side, Kaien-dono."

Shiba grinned.

"You have a lot more than one person on your side right now, Kuchiki. And believe me when I say that I would rather have Ichigo watching my back than any Captain in Soul Society; if word reached Hueco Mundo that you were scheduled for an execution, that kid would rip the Seireitei to the ground to get you back."

"I know," Rukia said softly, her spirits rising slightly as she recalled the day that Ichigo had blocked the Sougyoku with a single zanpakuto. The look in his eyes at that moment had conveyed a promise that he would do whatever it took to keep her safe, and Rukia doubted that the carrot-top was going to be breaking that promise any time soon.

"Oh, and Kaien-dono?"

"Yeah?" Shiba asked as he stood up, offering Rukia his hand.

"Don't call me 'Kuchiki'. That's not my name any more."

"Sorry, Rukia," Kaien said with a chuckle as he pulled his student to her feet, "but I'm not making any promises. I'll try, but old habits die hard. Now," he finished with a grin, "what do you say we go hunt some Hollows?"

The violet-eyed Soul Reaper popped a Soul Candy into her mouth and shifted into her spirit form, light back in her eyes as she smirked mischievously at her superior.

"Try to keep up, Kaien-dono."

She was immediately gone in a burst of reiatsu, and the Thirteenth Division Lieutenant gave a wide smile.

"Good to have you back, Rukia," he said, before disappearing as well.

* * *

The next morning brought a moon rising over Hueco Mundo rather than a sun, and its glow was anything but cheery. As an ill feeling hung in the air, Aizen called Nnoitra Jiruga and Szayel Aporro Grantz into the throne room.

"Good morning, my dear Espada," Sosuke greeted cordially. "You may be wondering why I have called only the two of you here, and I shall explain that presently.

"I have become aware of certain feelings of… sedition in our ranks, to put it lightly. Unfortunately, it seems as though my faith in my new Lieutenant was grossly misplaced. He appears to think that he can bring me down, despite the obvious gap in strength that lies between us."

"And this concerns us how, Aizen-sama…?" Nnoitra asked, and Sosuke smiled.

"I intend to see just how far his loyalty to me and willingness to obey my orders can be stretched before it snaps. I also desire to see just who would follow him, in the event that he did succeed in breaking away from the forces of Las Noches and declaring civil war. Here is my plan…"

In the minutes that followed, the traitorous Soul Reaper explained his scheme to the psychotic Fifth Espada and the devious Eighth. By the end of it, Nnoitra's usual grin had grown to twice its normal size.

Finally, when Aizen gave the order to put this plan into motion, Jiruga would be able to give that green-haired bitch Oderschvank a piece of his mind.

* * *

**A/N: **Well, I hope that wasn't too dark for you guys. And I hate to say this, but next chapter, as you can probably tell, isn't going to be much happier. Nonetheless, I hope you enjoyed it. The first big arc that departs significantly from cannon is about to begin, so that should be exciting. Sorry this chapter was relatively short, but I didn't want to drag it out and kill the impact.

Oh, and as always, **please review**!


	13. Betrayal

**Disclaimer:** I do not own Bleach, or any of its characters. Tite Kubo does. I do, however, own this story.

**Torn**

**Chapter 13: **Betrayal

* * *

Ichigo woke up late that morning after several false starts, each time unable to shake the feeling that something terrible was about to happen and hoping that it would go away if he slept for a little longer. Realizing after the tenth try that he was going to have no such luck, the Soul Reaper got up, shrugged on his uniform and walked towards the main hall.

When he got there, Kurosaki was surprised by the scene that greeted him: Grimmjow looked like he'd been up all night, Neliel seemed depressed, Ulquiorra clearly had something on his mind and Nnoitra looked unusually pleased with himself.

Yeah, something bad was definitely about to happen.

"Good morning, Ichigo," Aizen greeted cordially. "I trust you slept well?"

"No, actually," the orange-haired Soul Reaper shot back as he took his place on the left side of Aizen, while Gin stood on Sosuke's right. "I feel like shit."

"I'm sorry to hear that," the former Captain replied, his voice utterly lacking in concern or sincerity. "Hopefully, the powers you will enjoy from your current position will do something to ameliorate your mood."

Ichigo shrugged.

"We'll see."

Giving a slight smile, Aizen began the meeting of the Espada. Ichigo looked over worriedly at Neliel, a gesture of concern that was not lost on the grinning Fifth Espada. That bond was going to make this so much sweeter; it was almost overwhelming.

As Nel rose up from her seat at the conclusion of the meeting, her eyes locked briefly with Jiruga's and what she saw there sent a shiver down her spine. Concealing all of her fear, the Third Espada waited until she was alone in one of the hallways before her hands started to shake. She knew that it was only a matter of time before Aizen realized that she was less than fanatically loyal, but the Third Espada never thought it might come to this. She was no fool, however; if there was one person Aizen would send after her, it would be his mad dog, the Arrancar who had wanted to kill her since the day they had both become Espada. Screwing up her courage, Neliel vanished with a buzz.

There was something she had to do, and then she would be able to face down Nnoitra with no regrets.

* * *

"Ichimaru," Ichigo said as he walked quickly to catch up to the silver-haired former Captain, "we need to talk."

"About what?" Gin replied, not slowing his stride at all.

"Aizen's up to something; I can feel it," Kurosaki pressed, but the red-eyed Soul Reaper remained unmoved.

"What's your point, Ichigo? He's always up to something."

"Yeah, maybe," the brown-eyed warrior conceded, "but this is different. This is something big."

"Your point being…?"

Ichigo stopped walking, gritting his teeth as he tried not to shout.

"Damn it, Gin," he hissed, "can't you see that it's time to make our move?"

"Please tell me you're joking, Kurosaki," Ichimaru parried calmly as he stopped walking, turning to face his student. "If Aizen is trying to force your hand, which he undoubtedly is, the worst thing you could do would be to take the bait. You're nowhere near strong enough to take him down right now; move against him and he'll crush you. Besides, you don't even know what he's planning yet."

"That doesn't matter. Are you with me on this, or not?"

Gin shook his head, chuckling scornfully.

"You're still so clueless, Ichigo," he answered. "Of course I'm still on your side, but you're insane if you think we should play all of our cards at once. Even if this situation escalates to the point where you openly turn against Aizen, I'm going to stay right where I can do the most damage."

"At his right hand," Kurosaki said evenly, and Ichimaru smiled.

"Precisely. Still, it surprises me that Sosuke is making this play so obvious… usually, he keeps things much closer to his chest."

"Is that a good thing?" Ichigo asked, and Gin shook his head as he turned away.

"No, Ichigo," the former Captain shot back, "it isn't. It means he's playing for keeps, and wants you to know it. It means he's going to hit you where it hurts, and he's going to hit you hard."

As Ichimaru flashed away, the orange-haired Soul Reaper cursed and slammed his fist into the nearest object, which happed to be a rather hard wall. Wincing slightly at the pain and the shock that reverberated up his arm, Ichigo wracked his brain for what to do. Coming up with nothing, he decided to seek out Grimmjow for a second opinion.

* * *

Nnoitra stood in front of Aizen's throne, alone, and waited for his orders.

"Nnoitra," the former Captain said coolly, "it is time. Remember my orders; I need you to keep her alive. Once the drop-off is made, she will suffer more than enough. If she puts up any resistance, however," Aizen finished with a smirk, "feel free to use whatever level of force you deem appropriate to incapacitate her. As long as Neliel is still alive when you make the delivery, my former colleague will take care of the rest. There's no way he'd let something as valuable as an Espada go to waste, after all."

Jiruga nodded, a smile on his face that reached all the way up to his eyes.

"As you wish, Aizen-sama."

When he left the room, the Fifth Espada vanished in a burst of _sonido_ and locked onto a pair of nearby reiatsu signatures. When he reemerged, Nnoitra recognized the two figures with their backs currently to him and chuckled. As they turned to face the new arrival, Pesche and Dondochakka's eyes went wide as they saw who it was.

"Yo," Nnoitra said smugly, brandishing Santa Teresa. "Know where I can find your boss, fraccion trash?"

"No," the smaller of the two said determinedly. "And even if we did, Nnoitra, there's no way we'd tell you."

"I think you're lying, Gautiche," Jiruga hissed. "I think you know exactly where that whore is, and if you won't tell me, then there's only one thing I can do."

"What would that be, you slime?"

Nnoitra's eye gleamed with malice.

"I'll just have to beat it out of ya."

* * *

Nel read over the note one last time, hoping that it would be able to convey all of her varied emotions. The Third Espada had a strong feeling that she wouldn't get another shot at it; this was basically her last will and testament, and she was leaving it in his hands.

Hopefully, he would understand what that meant.

Sighing and wiping a stray tear from the corner of her eye, Neliel left the room behind with a buzz. She hoped Pesche and Dondochakka were awake; she could really use a laugh right now.

Her room was decidedly empty, which the female Arrancar found unnervingly odd. Where could those two have gone? Frowning, Nel left her room behind and tried to seek out her fraccions' reiatsu on foot.

"Pesche? Dondochakka?" she called out, going from room to room in search of the two Arrancar and coming up empty time after time. Growing more uneasy by the moment, Neliel's fruitless search eventually brought her face-to-face with the one person she had absolutely no desire to see.

"Yo," Nnoitra greeted, his zanpakuto slung over his shoulder. Her frown deepening, Neliel walked right past the Fifth Espada.

"You shouldn't carry your weapon around in the open like that, Nnoitra," Oderschvank said testily. "Such posturing is a sign of weakness."

As she passed him, the Third Espada noticed the dried blood on the edge of his crescent-shaped blade and her own blood froze.

"What did you do, Nnoitra?" she asked, pushing through her trepidation, and Jiruga merely grinned as the wall nearby exploded apart.

"See for yourself, woman."

The green-haired Arrancar rushed over to the gaping hole and gasped in horror as two forms became visible, crawling towards her on their hands and knees.

"Forgive us, Nel-sama," Dondochakka uttered with a subdued voice, with none of his usual cheery affectation.

"We fought him as best we could," Pesche continued weakly, "but he was too strong… please forgive us…"

Neliel bit back a sob as her two oldest comrades collapsed onto their faces, shattered mask fragments clinking on the ground.

"You monster," she growled, her head whipping back around to face Nnoitra as her eyes glared daggers at her fellow Espada. "You killed them!"

"Don't be so morbid, bitch," Jiruga spat back harshly. "I didn't kill them, I just beat the shit out of them and shattered their masks. They're still alive… barely."

The Third Espada rose to her feet slowly, her face contorted with rage. Drawing her sword, Nel focused her reiatsu and readied herself for the duel.

"Oh, so I finally gave you a reason to fight?" Jiruga asked snidely, and Neliel shook her head.

"No, you didn't," she grit out, "but you did hurt two people very, very close to me, and I'm going to make you pay for it!"

She charged and clashed violently with Nnoitra, exchanging a few blows before striking hard and forcing him through a wall. As her prey cursed sharply and plummeted down to the sand below, the green-haired Arrancar took a deep breath and dove down after him.

* * *

"You look terrible, Grimmjow."

"You're one to talk, Ichigo," the Sixth Espada shot back with a weak smile. "So, what's up?"

Ichigo decided to cut the crap and get right to the point, taking one last breath to calm himself down before beginning.

"I need to know something, Grimmjow," he said seriously. "If I were to rebel against Aizen, would you go with me?"

Jaegerjaques looked at his comrade for a long moment, before his blue eyes went wide with understanding.

"Jesus, you're not joking, are you?" he asked. "You're seriously thinking about doing something that stupid?"

"Serious as a heart attack, buddy," Kurosaki replied. "So, what would you do?"

"You know you could just order me to go with you, right?" Grimmjow said, but Ichigo shook his head.

"I'm not going to pull rank on this one," the orange-haired Soul Reaper parried. "If you want to come with me, that's one thing, but I'm not going to force you to lay your life on the line."

Grimmjow stayed quiet for a few moments before getting up from his seat and sighing.

"Well, Aizen's already shown just how much respect he has for me, and I still owe you one for saving my head from Tosen. I'd much rather go out in a blaze of glory than wait for Aizen to sacrifice me like a piece of fodder."

"So, I take it your answer is 'yes', then, Grimmjow?"

The Sixth Espada gave a wide, bloodthirsty smile.

"Hell yeah."

Ichigo smiled in kind, glad that he had at least two allies secured for when the time came to break away. When he was about to say something else, a surge of reiatsu from a ways off froze him in his tracks. It wasn't the feeling of reiatsu being released in a controlled fashion, like it was when someone powered up before a duel: this reiatsu was _leaking_ away, and he could tell exactly whose it was.

"Oh, no…"

His heart pounding in his chest, Ichigo flashed away, hurrying towards the place where he felt the reiatsu of one of his only allies in Hueco Mundo ebbing away into nothingness.

"Please be okay, Neliel," Ichigo said to himself, growing more and more anxious. "Please be all right."

* * *

"Well, I'd say that my device's first test was a rousing success," Szayel Aporro spoke smugly as he looked down at the unconscious form of Neliel Tu Oderschvank, her breathing faint as reiatsu continued to drain from the crack in her mask. She had retained her physical form, but it was obvious that her power level had been extremely crippled by the trauma.

"Look at her," Nnoitra scoffed. "So pathetic. Can you still hear me, you whore?" he asked the prone Arrancar, before kicking her cruelly in the midsection. "How does it feel, huh? How does it feel to be beaten down by a beast?!"

As he delivered another vicious kick to her already-battered form, Szayel stepped forward and put his hand on Nnoitra's shoulder.

"Take it easy, Jiruga," he cautioned. "Aizen-sama said he wanted her alive, remember? We still need to make the delivery, in case you've forgotten."

Nnoitra growled, shaking off Grantz' hand and giving the cracked mask one last kick.

"She can take it," he spat, and the Eighth Espada just sighed.

"That kid's going to be here any minute, Nnoitra," the pink-haired Arrancar said. "Hurry up and do your job before he gets here, or things are going to get a lot messier."

"Fine," the Fifth Espada groaned, slinging the limp form roughly over his shoulder and ripping open a _garganta_. Stepping into the whirling blackness, Nnoitra solidified a path out of spirit particles and walked towards his destination.

"I don't know what that Ichigo kid sees in you, to be honest," Jiruga spoke to the unconscious form he was carrying like a sack of potatoes. "He must just have mommy issues, because I have no idea how anyone could ever care about an obnoxious bitch like you."

Reaching his destination at last, Nnoitra opened up another _garganta_ and stepped out into Soul Society. Specifically, the part of Soul Society on the outskirts of the Rukongai where the Twelfth Division conducted its daily field research. Dropping his cargo roughly onto the grass, Jiruga spared his nemesis one last glance as he opened a return _garganta_.

"I hear this guy's a real sadistic bastard, Neliel," the Fifth Espada said evenly, a vicious grin splitting his face a heartbeat later as he briefly released his reiatsu. Stepping into the black rift, he uttered a final parting shot to the helpless female Arrancar.

"Have fun."

As Nnoitra left his former comrade behind, the immense reiatsu pulse he had emitted drew nearby Twelfth Division scientists like flies. Chief among them was none other than the Captain of Twelfth Division himself, Mayuri Kurotsuchi. As the unbalanced scientist looked down at the odd form and recognized it as an Arrancar, his mouth twisted into a disturbing grin.

"Well, well," he said excitedly, approaching his quarry like a wolf, "look what we have here. An Arrancar, in the flesh. Even better, it looks like it's still alive! Nemu!"

"Yes, sir?" the diminutive Lieutenant said, flashing to her superior's side in an instant.

"Get this thing properly restrained, and then move it into my lab. And make sure no one knows about it, either," Mayuri ordered harshly. "If anyone interferes with my research, I will hold your worthless hide responsible."

"Of course, Mayuri-sama," Nemu said with a nod of her head, ordering a team to begin preparing the unconscious Arrancar for transportation. As he looked down at his newest specimen, the Captain felt a thrill build within him that had been absent for a long time: finally, he had some new materials to work with.

"What treasures are you hiding in there, Arrancar?" he asked, half-to-himself. "Oh, the fun I shall have prying them from you!"

* * *

Ichigo arrived at the spot where Neliel's reiatsu was the strongest, but there was nothing there. Shouting out a curse, the Soul Reaper felt his vision going red when a strained voice from behind him caught his attention.

"Ichigo…"

Kurosaki spun around, his anger being replaced for the moment by shock as he saw the de-masked forms of Pesche and Dondochakka before him.

"What happened to you two?" he asked hastily, rushing towards them with the intent to heal them somehow. He was stopped, however, by words from Dondochakka.

"Don't bother," he said, his voice scratchy. "We'll manage. If we can't make it, then we'll see Nel-sama in the beyond, don'tcha know."

Ichigo's heart stopped beating at the implication.

"She's not…"

"No," Pesche said, "but part of me wishes that she was, for her sake."

"Tell me what happened," Kurosaki insisted, his voice growing steely as frustration and guilt began to weigh down on him. "Now."

"It was Nnoitra," Dondochakka answered. "He started a fight with Nel-sama, and then he used a dirty trick to ambush her and broke her mask open!"

The orange-haired Soul Reaper's directionless, raging anger had found a target, and his brown eyes narrowed as they began to bleed into yellow and black.

"What happened next?" he asked in a murderous voice, and the larger fraccion drew in a rattling breath before continuing.

"He dragged her through a _garganta_, but we were too far away to tell just where he dropped her off. When he came back, he was alone, don'tcha know."

"Was there anyone else with him?" Kurosaki practically growled, and Pesche shook his head.

"Not that we could see, no…"

Before the fraccion could finish his sentence, Ichigo was gone in a malevolent burst of reiatsu that sent a shiver down the fraccion's spines.

"Do you think he's going to kill Nnoitra, Pesche?"

The smaller Arrancar nodded and replied, his voice vengeful.

"If he doesn't think of something worse, Dondochakka."

* * *

The powerful reiatsu that appeared out of nowhere sent a shiver down the spines of all of the gathered Espada outside of the Vasto Lorde. Hichigo, who was lounging over to the side, smiled like a bloodthirsty maniac.

"He's furious," the Hollow said gleefully. "I've never seen him this angry before; one of you worms is _so fucked_!"

No more than two heartbeats after this declaration had been made, the doors to the main hall were ripped clean from their hinges. As the dust cleared, the figure that had caused the damage stood revealed as none other than Ichigo, currently adorned in his white _bankai_ uniform. His reiatsu rolled off of him in thick, oppressing waves, as if it was trying to reach out and crush anything it could get its hands on. Any Espada below the Sixth was feeling paralyzed, and even Stark flinched at the fierceness of the Lieutenant's power. But Ichigo couldn't have cared less about the effects his power was having on anyone: his eyes were focused squarely on the Fifth Espada, and no one else.

"Nnoitra," he hissed, and Jiruga had to fight to hold back a shiver as the killing intent that was dripping from each syllable stabbed at him like a sword.

"Yeah?" the Espada replied nonchalantly, but his cool attitude was soon disrupted as Ichigo flashed in front of him, grabbed him by his throat and slammed him into the closest wall, slowly choking the life from his enemy.

"I'm only going to ask you this once," Kurosaki said coldly, as Nnoitra tried to break free from the hold and failed miserably. "Where… is… Neliel?"

Aizen did nothing as one of his soldiers squeezed the life out of another; Ulquiorra, however, heard the question and his eyes widened ever so slightly. What had happened to Nel?

"Fuck you, Soul Reaper," Nnoitra gagged out.

Ichigo gave the Espada a hard hook across the jaw, and then another and another, until a substantial trickle of blood was leaking from the corner of Jiruga's mouth.

"Start talking, or I start cutting off your limbs."

The Espada gasped out a chuckle at the threat.

"You don't have the guts, brat, or the strength."

Ichigo's yellow eyes blazed at the challenge.

"Oh, really?" he asked, before letting go of Nnoitra's neck. As the Arrancar gasped to regain his breath, Ichigo raised his katana and sliced off one of his arms. Jiruga screamed bloody murder at the sudden amputation, but the Soul Reaper's eyes remained stony.

"Start talking, you bastard, or I'll take the other one."

Nnoitra shrugged off his pain long enough to reply, his tone feral and mocking.

"If you really want to know," he hissed, "then I'll tell you, but don't say I didn't warn ya. That bitch is in Soul Society, currently in the custody of one Mayuri Kurotsuchi."

Ichigo's blood froze as the name rang in his ears and the horror stories that Ishida had told him all that time ago rose back up into the forefront of his mind like a roiling nightmare. Mayuri Kurotsuchi was a madman, someone who drew as much pleasure from performing a vivisection as a normal person might experience from winning the lottery. He was a sick, twisted freak, and now, because Ichigo hadn't acted quickly enough, Neliel was in his clutches.

As the rational part of his mind tried not to panic at the news, the primal part that wanted nothing to do with reasoning took over Ichigo's actions. Kurosaki took a few steps away from the still-reeling Fifth Espada, his fist clenched hard enough for his fingernails to dig into his palm and draw blood. As his hand unclenched, a focused, absurdly powerful orb of red energy began to appear and grow a few inches away from the surface of his palm. As the _gran rey cero_ finished forming, Ichigo raised his arm up behind him and fired it off without even looking at his target, engulfing and annihilating the Fifth Espada.

The spontaneous, uncontrolled and instinctive outburst seemed to drain the Soul Reaper immensely, but he didn't show it as he turned to face Aizen.

"Requesting permission to—"

"No."

The Soul Reaper's still-yellow eyes widened in shock at the blatant refusal.

"What?"

Aizen smiled at the look on his subordinate's face; human emotions were just too precious sometimes.

"I refuse to allow you to attempt a rescue mission, Ichigo. I assume that is what you were going to ask me for permission to do, no?"

"But… but she's… Nel's the third-strongest Arrancar you have under your command! Why would you not want to rescue her?"

Aizen's smile widened as he replied.

"Because I'm the one who ordered Nnoitra to do what he did," the former Captain explained as Ichigo's expression became even more surprised. "Oh, come now," Aizen said condescendingly. "Don't look so shocked, Ichigo. Neliel was seditious, and she had been from the first day she joined me. It's common sense that a military leader cannot afford to have potential traitors in their ranks, don't you agree?"

The double meaning of the question was not lost on Ichigo, and he had to fight to retain his composure.

"Of course," the orange-haired Soul Reaper said as evenly as he could, before bowing and taking his leave. After the meeting had been concluded and the hall stood empty but for Aizen and Ichimaru, Sosuke smiled and spoke.

"And so it begins," he said. "Let's see how far Ichigo strays before he realizes the truth."

Gin's brow furrowed in confusion; Aizen had planned this out as a test?

"And what, pray tell, would that 'truth' be?" the silver-haired Captain asked, and Sosuke's smile widened.

"That, in the end, there is only one place for a warrior and a killer such as him," the former Captain answered ominously, "and that place is at my side."

* * *

Ulquiorra Schiffer walked slowly through the halls of Las Noches, trying to buy himself as much time as he could to sort out his thoughts before he reached his quarters and had to make a decision. The Fourth Espada knew that Ichigo was going to rebel, and he also knew that Aizen had used Neliel's life as a chip with which to force Kurosaki's hand. But Schiffer was far from stupid, and realized that any force rebelling against Aizen, and especially one of a small size, had a very slim chance of succeeding, if any at all. It was a choice between choosing to die in a suicidal fashion or living with self-loathing as his constant companion, mocking his cowardice.

Ulquiorra was in no hurry to make that choice, hence his slow pace towards his quarters. In what seemed like no time at all, the Arrancar blinked and found himself in his room, staring down at a piece of paper that had been left on his desk.

It was a note from Neliel, and judging from the slight smudges left by moisture, she had been shedding sporadic tears while writing it. As his green eyes moved carefully and methodically over the words that had been written with chilling finality, acceptance and heart-wrenchingly sincere regret, Ulquiorra grit his teeth and made up his mind. Folding the letter up and putting it into a pocket inside of his jacket, the Fourth Espada sighed in defeat and disappeared with a buzz.

That woman was going to be the death of him.

* * *

"You know this mission is suicide, right?" Grimmjow asked Ichigo as the Soul Reaper prepared himself for his second journey to Soul Society under arms.

"Yep."

"And you're still going to go, right?"

"Yep."

"Even though, regardless of whether or not we succeed, Aizen is still going to hunt us down like dogs?"

"Yep."

"Do you have any idea where we're going to stay afterwards?"

Ichigo's pattern of affirmative replies stalled at that question.

"…I'm working on that."

"Great," Grimmjow shot back, sarcasm lacing the word.

"Would you just relax, Jaegerjaques?" Hichigo broke in. "Even if Gin can't come with us since he wants to be a pussy and maintain his 'cover', the three of us are gonna be more than enough to bust into Soul Society and get this broad back, safe and sound."

"I would be inclined to disagree," an even voice called out from the other side of the room. The trio of would-be rebels turned around to find themselves face to face with the Fourth Espada, Ulquiorra Schiffer.

"Ulquiorra," Grimmjow growled, their rivalry emerging once again. "What are you doing here?"

"If you came here to try and stop us, I can tell you right now that you'll fail," Ichigo said sternly, his hand gripping Zangetsu's hilt. Ulquiorra, rather than drawing his own sword, just shot the orange-haired warrior a skeptical look.

"Are you always so headstrong, Kurosaki?" he asked. "I'm not here to stop you, Soul Reaper," the Espada finished, stepping forward,

"I'm here to join you."

Ichigo's jaw all but hit the floor at the idea of the stoic Ulquiorra taking part in a rebellion, but he wasn't about to look a gift horse in the mouth.

"Welcome aboard," the brown-eyed Soul Reaper replied as he opened a _garganta_, the black void swirling ominously in front of the four.

"Ulquiorra," Jaegerjaques asked before they crossed the threshold, "why exactly are you doing this?"

"My reasons are my own," the Fourth Espada answered calmly as he stepped forward, solidifying a path wide enough for the four warriors to walk abreast of each other. "What are you three waiting for? We don't have time to sit around."

The remaining rebels stepped forward and Hichigo closed the _garganta_ behind them, severing their ties with Aizen for good. This done, the group rushed forward, headed straight for Soul Society.

Now, there was no going back.

* * *

**A/N: **I feel like a huge jerk doing that to Neliel, but it had to be done. And in case any of you are wondering, yes, the contents of the note Nel wrote to Ulquiorra will be revealed next chapter. So begins what I like to call "Soul Society: Round 2", which should be an awesome arc full of action, tension and diabolical schemes brewing in Las Noches. In short, business as usual. I hope you enjoyed it, and as always, **please review**!


	14. The Face That Launched A Thousand Ships

**Disclaimer: **I do not own Bleach, or any of its characters. Tite Kubo does.

**Torn**

**Chapter 14: **The Face That Launched A Thousand Ships

* * *

As the two Captains walked side by side to the meeting that had been called, the one with short, purple hair turned to her comrade and spoke.

"You're not seriously going to do it, are you, Byakuya-bo?"

The Kuchiki Captain snorted dismissively.

"Do what, woman? And don't call me by that patronizing nickname, either; I'm not in the mood."

Yoruichi smirked briefly despite herself, before returning her thoughts to the serious matter at hand.

"I'm talking about your sister. You're not really going to kill her, are you?"

"That girl is no longer my kin, Shihoin," Byakuya grated out, "and a cat such as yourself should know by now that unbridled curiosity can be fatal."

"Was that a threat, Byakuya-bo?" the Second Division interim Captain said with mock hurt. "That cuts deep, it really does. I thought we were friends."

"I could never be friends with a fickle demon such as yourself, woman. But to return to the matter at hand, how can you be so sure that I won't kill Rukia?"

Yoruichi's golden eyes gleamed with mischief.

"Because you don't sound so sure yourself, Byakuya-bo," she prodded, "and I know that you're still a big softie underneath that stony exterior of yours."

"Any tenderness that might have resided in my heart perished with Hisana, woman," Byakuya all but growled.

"Keep telling yourself that, Byakuya," Shihoin parried, "but I've known you since you were a kid, and I can tell you're going to crack long before you see Rukia again. She's too much like Hisana for you to actually kill her, and you know it."

Byakuya was silent for several moments, giving his parting shot a few steps away from the doors to First Division's headquarters.

"I hate you."

Yoruichi just smiled, completely unfazed by the Kuchiki Captain's words.

"I know."

The two Soul Reapers stepped into the room and took their places beside the other Captains. When all of the strongest warriors in Soul Society had gathered together, Yamamoto pounded his staff on the floor and signaled the beginning of the meeting.

"Earlier this afternoon," he announced in a deep, rumbling voice, "some of the scouts from Second Division reported seeing a _garganta_ appear on the far edge of the Rukongai. Their report states that a wounded, unconscious Arrancar was found at the scene, and promptly annexed by the scientists of Twelfth Division. Captain Kurotsuchi," the Captain-Commander spoke with a bite,

"Is there any reason why I have not been made aware of this development in an official report?"

Mayuri visibly tensed as every eye in the room turned to regard him, and his reply was as defensive as that of a cornered beast.

"I did not think it necessary to report such a trivial occurrence to my superior, sir," the skeletal-faced scientist spat out. "Besides, any research and experiments I choose to conduct in my laboratories fall under my direct, sovereign control as head of the Research and Development department. The same autonomy you extend to those sneaky rats in the SMC is also mine, by right!"

"Silence, Kurotsuchi!" Yamamoto spoke thunderously, choking off Mayuri's diatribe. "Know your place, or it will be stripped from you as punishment for your impudence. I have not finished. Later this afternoon, no less than two hours ago, a second _garganta_ was sighted, near the same location as the first. The warriors who emerged from it were confirmed to be two Espada, an unidentified Hollow, and the traitor Ichigo Kurosaki."

At the mention of the last name, several members of the assembly became very, very concerned; any appearance made by the orange-haired Kurosaki was bound to bring strife to their doorstep.

"I cannot believe that this is a coincidence, Mayuri Kurotsuchi!" the Captain-Commander boomed. "Tell us, what exactly are you hiding in your laboratory?"

Before the Twelfth Division Captain could respond, every person's head jerked upwards slightly as a thread of _kido_ was forced into their minds.

"This is…" Captain Ukitake began,

"_Tenteikura_…" Captain Kyoraku finished, and a few heartbeats later a voice echoed in their ears.

"Yo, is this thing on?" Ichigo's voice asked, before an irritated, harsh reply cut him off.

"Of course it's 'on', you moron," the speaker shot back in a harsh tone that sounded like a twisted version of Ichigo's voice. "It's _kido_, not a fucking microphone!"

"You're not helping, brother," Kurosaki grumbled, before coughing and beginning his message.

"Okay, so here's the deal," Ichigo's disembodied voice announced. "Your rat bastard of a Twelfth Division Captain has captured somebody that we care deeply about."

"Especially Ulquiorra," Grimmjow's voice cut in, jeering. "He's in love!"

"When this is over, I _will_ kill you," the Fourth Espada's cold voice replied, before Ichigo cleared his throat and continued.

"Consider this an ultimatum," the Soul Reaper said seriously. "We are giving you an hour, during the duration of which we will be traveling towards the Seireitei. If Nel isn't back in our hands by then, we're going to tear down your walls and take her back by whatever means necessary. If you get in our way, we will trample you. If you draw your swords, we will shatter them.

"What is your answer?"

Every Captain knew that a _tenteikura _that could reach this far, and penetrate the spiritual barrier around the Seireitei no less, was being cast by someone who possessed monstrous spiritual power indeed. They expected Yamamoto to acquiesce, and waited anxiously for his reply.

"I refuse to honor your demand," Genryusai growled. "I will not negotiate with your ilk, nor be intimidated by your petty threats. If you desire to seize this… thing from us, then come and take it."

No reply was heard for a few moments, and then Ichigo sighed.

"So be it," he said frigidly, his voice as focused as a sword's edge. "Just know that if you have caused Neliel any irreparable damage, it will be repaid to you in kind."

The _Tenteikura_ vanished with a snap, and Unohana turned to face Yamamoto.

"With all due respect, sir," she began, "do you not think that decision was a rash one?"

"Absolutely not," the ancient man replied, his voice hard and inflexible. "We cannot give in to demands such as that. Furthermore, the chance we have now to crush these scum cannot be ignored. They will come here full of fire, and we shall snuff it out with impunity. No quarter shall be given, nor will it be asked for. By the time the sun sets, their heads will be on pikes atop our walls!"

Most of the Captains in the room felt a great unease settle over them at the idea of another pitched battle so soon after Aizen had decimated their ranks, but they also knew that once Yamamoto had his mind set on something, he was not one to brook an argument.

"Mobilize your forces as you see fit," the Captain-Commander ordered. "Meet these pitiful insects out on the field of battle, and destroy them. Dismissed!"

The Captains all filed out of the hall, grim thoughts weighing down their minds. In one of the adjacent corridors, Captain Unohana approached Yoruichi.

"Lady Shihoin," the calm healer spoke, "may I ask you a question?"

The golden-eyed Soul Reaper nodded.

"You don't have to ask me permission, Captain Unohana. What's on your mind?"

"You know the boy Kurosaki the best out of all of us," the Fourth Division Captain spoke seriously. "Tell me, how dangerous is he?"

Shihoin sighed, still saddened that her former student had joined Aizen's ranks.

"It depends on how hard he's willing to fight," Yoruichi replied. "If he really cares about this Arrancar as much as he claims to, 'Wrath of God' doesn't even begin to describe the force he will bring down on us."

"I was afraid you would say that," Retsu answered, hanging her head. "To be honest, I still regret the day that we exiled Kisuke Urahara," she spoke, and Yoruichi's eyes widened at the name.

"Especially now that we know he was innocent of the charges levied against him, and such an act allowed Mayuri Kurotsuchi to rise in his place as Captain of Twelfth Division." Unohana continued, sighing. "But now is not the time to dwell on the darkness of our past," the wise Captain finished. "We must instead prepare for the darkness of the present, and the storm that gathers above our heads. Take care, Lady Shihion."

Yoruichi nodded and went on her way, her heart heavy with consternation. The last thing she wanted to do right now was fight a war, but Yamamoto, being the stubborn old codger that he was, didn't seem to want to give anyone a choice in the matter.

"I knew I shouldn't have taken this job," she groused. "Kisuke's probably still sleeping in right now, the jerk."

* * *

Captain Kyoraku stepped into the dingy Twelfth Division laboratory and immediately had to cover his nose. The place reeked of chemicals, blood and sweat. None of the usual assistants were around, either; Mayuri had wanted to keep this private for a reason, and whatever that reason was disturbed the Eighth Division Captain greatly. Moving swiftly through the lab, Shunsui soon found himself looking at a barred, prison-style cell. Peering through the darkness, Kyoraku saw a form slumped up against the cold stone and his eyes widened in pity.

The woman looked to be no older than 20, the only visible attribute that marked her as an Arrancar being the fractured mask on her head. Scores of cuts, both battle-inflicted and the smoother, more precise marks of incisions were scattered around her body. Her uniform had been torn to shreds, the pure white it had once been now looking brown and sullied by blood, dirt and tears.

"Gods…" Shunsui breathed out, before ripping open the door and stepping into the enclosure. The Arrancar stirred at the sound, her eyes widening in fear as she caught sight of the new visitor. She came sharply to life, scrambling up against the wall as her hands began scratching at the concrete, desperate to put distance between her and this Soul Reaper by any means necessary. Kyoraku closed the space between them swiftly before the poor woman scratched her nails raw, but when he got within arms-length the Arrancar lashed out, trying to claw at him. Shunsui took hold of her hands gently but firmly, stilling Neliel's animalistic reaction.

"I can't imagine what that man has done to you, child," the Captain said softly, "and I weep for your pains. Trust me when I say that I'm here to help you, not harm you."

Nel shuddered and tears began to flow from her eyes, but she made no sound.

"Here," Kyoraku spoke after a moment, taking off his floral cloak and draping it around the young woman's trembling form. "This should keep you warm. I'm Shunsui, Shunsui Kyoraku. What's your name, young one?"

The Arrancar said nothing, and even when she opened her mouth no sound came out. There were no scars on her throat, and her tongue was intact, and yet she could not speak.

Whatever had been done to her, the psychological trauma had rendered her mute.

Sighing and cursing Kurotsuchi's amorality, Shunsui unsheathed the shorter of his zanpakuto's blades and handed it to Neliel, tacitly expressing his goodwill by giving the prisoner a weapon.

"Use it to write your name," he urged gently, and Neliel took the short sword and carved the characters of her first name into the ground, before handing the blade back to the Captain.

"Neliel," Kyoraku sounded out. "That's a strong name."

The Arrancar got a cynical look on her face, giving Shunsui a sad smile.

"You will be fine, Neliel," Kyoraku said as he rose, turning to leave the cell. "Your comrades are coming, and I can guarantee that they won't stop until they reach you."

As he stood on the other side of the iron bars, the Captain raised his hand and formed a _kyomon_ barrier across entire length of the cell.

"This should keep anyone from entering," he said, "but when the time comes, it should be a simple matter for you to break it from the inside. Good luck, child," Shunsui spoke in parting as he prepared to flash away. "I hope that, in time, your voice returns to you."

Neliel sighed and wrapped the cloak around her tightly, closing her eyes and drifting off to sleep. A smile formed on her face as she recalled the words Grimmjow had spoken over the _tenteikura_; she knew Ulquiorra would come for her.

* * *

"I can't believe they said no. Do they _want_ to die?"

"They're just being stubborn idiots, Grimmjow," Ichigo replied. "This doesn't really change anything, anyway. It's not like we expected them to roll out a welcoming mat, after all."

"I, for one, can't _wait_ to bust some heads," Hichigo said excitedly, but the orange-haired Soul Reaper cut him off.

"We're not killing anyone, brother," Kurosaki said sternly. "The last thing we want to do is deplete their forces before the battle against Aizen's actually started."

"Then you would let that scum Kurotsuchi live?' Ulquiorra asked, an uncommon amount of bitterness in his voice. Grimmjow raised an eyebrow, unable to keep from commenting on his fellow Espada's change in demeanor.

"You're acting pretty lively over there, Ulquiorra. What gives? You know I was joking earlier when I said…" The Sixth Espada's voice trailed off as the wheels turned in his head, and Grimmjow's blue eyes widened as he arrived at the answer.

"You didn't think I was joking," he said, his voice building towards a revelation. "You thought I was being serious when I said that! Oh man, you actually _are_ in love with her?!"

Schiffer remained silent, knowing that by not saying anything he was proving Grimmjow right, but also realizing that if he said something defensive he would be doing the same thing.

"I can't say I blame the guy," Hichigo chimed in. "I'd invade Soul Society by myself if I knew I'd get to tap that."

"You're disgusting," Ichigo parried, and the Hollow just shrugged.

"Hey, I call it like I see it. I'm a creature of pure instinct, remember? It's not like I can help myself."

"This is wasting time," Schiffer spoke, trying to keep from lunging forward and strangling Hichigo on the spot. "Every second we linger here is a second Mayuri has Neliel in his hands."

"Point taken," Ichigo said seriously. "They've given us their answer, gentlemen," he spoke as he prepared to flash away,

"Now let's give them ours."

* * *

The foursome found their charge stalled by the massive wall of _seki-seki_ stone that made up the Seireitei's main defensive barrier, looming tall and immune to spiritual energy.

"Well, this is kind of anti-climactic," Hichigo spoke out, breaking the frustrated silence. "Any ideas? We can't exactly use reiatsu to bust this thing down, so unless we want to start banging our heads against the wall, we need to think of something, and fast."

When the Hollow's words had had a chance to sink in, Jaegerjaques' eyes lit up as he had an epiphany.

"That's it!" he exclaimed. "we might not be able to use energy to blast it down, but blunt-force trauma should do the trick."

Ichigo raised a quizzical eyebrow.

"Where are we going to find enough blunt force to break through this?"

Grimmjow smiled a wide, feral grin.

"Watch and learn, Ichigo. Grind, Pantera!"

After the blue-haired Espada had entered his _resurrecion_ form, he bent both of his elbows and produced five green, dart-like objects from each one.

"If these don't get the job done, nothing will," Grimmjow spoke as he let the projectiles fly. To the warriors' immense relief, the weapons succeeded in not just breaking the wall down, but also in all-but obliterating a section of it entirely. As the Espada resumed his normal form, Ichigo let out an impressed whistle.

"I guess that'll work," he said, and the four warriors stepped beyond the boundary and into the Seireitei itself.

"How shall we proceed?" Ulquiorra asked, and Kurosaki paused for a moment to think before answering.

"We should split up, and then meet up again at the Twelfth Division Headquarters. If we do that, we won't get in each other's way when fights crop up, and we quadruple our chances of getting there sooner compared to if we go as a single group. It also keeps us from being killed off all at once, as well."

"That sounds solid to me," Hichigo chimed in. "So, I'm assuming we're just looking for the building with the big '12' on it?"

"Pretty much," Grimmjow said, and the four warriors split off, one going in each of the cardinal directions. Before breaking up, however, they synced threads of their reiatsu together to form links, which could be communicated over like walkie-talkies. That way, one of them could let the others know as soon as they found the Twelfth Division building, and not a moment of time would be wasted trying to track each other down.

* * *

Hichigo ran through the streets like a man possessed, locking on to the strongest nearby reiatsu and chasing it down. When he finally ran into his opponent, the Hollow wasn't disappointed at all; this man had a frighteningly high level of reiatsu, a Captain's robe on and a berserker grin to rival his own.

"The Old Man said that we should mobilize like we saw fit," the man said, his voice gravelly and rough, "and I wasn't about to let Yachiru have all of the fun. You aren't gonna disappoint me, are ya, boy?"

Hichigo recognized this man from Ichigo's earlier battle with him as Zaraki Kenpachi, the Captain of the Eleventh Division.

"You aren't gonna go down as easily as you did against Ichigo, are ya?" the Hollow spat back, and Zaraki's grin widened.

"Come and find out, Hollow!" he shouted, and Hichigo laughed madly as he charged, Kenpachi's zanpakuto meeting the inverted Zangetsu in a furious clash as the duel began.

* * *

Grimmjow hurried along, in search of the Twelfth Division Headquarters, when an incredibly strong reiatsu appeared nearby, definitely Captain-class.

"What's the hurry, handsome?" a velvety, amused voice called out from the Espada's left. "Why don't you stay a while and fight me?"

Jaegerjaques turned around to see a woman emerge from the shadows, with dark skin, short purple hair, sharp golden eyes and a white _haori_. Now there was no doubting that this woman was a Captain.

"I don't have time for this," the Espada snarled as he made to leave, only to find himself staring directly into those golden eyes, which were now no more than a foot from him.

"Then you should clear your schedule," the Captain said, "because I can't let you through."

It was only Grimmjow's fast reflexes that kept him from being hit by the punch that screamed towards his head a heartbeat later, and the Espada jumped backwards to give himself a bit of range, and time to catch his breath.

"Not bad, not bad," the woman said appreciatively. "It's been a while since I've met someone who could dodge that."

"I'm honored," Jaegerjaques replied sarcastically, cracking his knuckles and lunging forward. The Captain sidestepped with liquid grace, delivering a spin kick to Grimmjow's midsection that sent him flying backwards. As he sailed through the air, the Espada caught a glimpse of the number '2' on the back of the woman's _haori_. When he had regained his footing, Jaegerjaques spit up some blood and spoke.

"Who're you?" he asked. "I thought Shaolin was Captain of the Second Division."

"My name's Yoruichi…" the woman began, before stopping as her eyes widened in shock. "How do you know that name?" she asked, but Grimmjow just charged again.

"It doesn't matter," he growled. "Let's go, woman!"

* * *

Ichigo flash-stepped from roof to roof, figuring that the view would be better from higher up. Just when he thought he saw the Twelfth Division's roof appear in the distance, however, a voice spoke up from behind him that stopped the Soul Reaper in his tracks.

"Where do you think you're going, Ichigo Kurosaki?"

Sighing, the brown eyed warrior turned to face his opponent.

"Why am I not surprised to see you here, Byakuya? What's wrong, are you such a glutton for punishment that you couldn't wait for me to wipe the floor with you again?"

"It appears that your treachery has done nothing to dull your arrogance, boy," the Kuchiki noble answered coldly. "You leave me no choice but to annihilate you, and free Rukia from the grip of your deception."

Kurosaki's eyes widened as he heard the name of his loved one.

"What does Rukia have to do with this?"

"She seems to think that she loves such a piece of filth as you," Byakuya ground out, "and it has poisoned her mind and robbed her of the ability to reason. Once you fall here, perhaps the veil of this foolishness will be lifted from her eyes."

Ichigo's soul raged against the Captain's blindness, and he shifted directly into his _bankai_.

"I promised Rukia I would come back to her," he shouted as he launched his attack, "and you're not going to be the reason I break that oath, Byakuya!"

* * *

Ulquiorra had keyed into Nel's reiatsu, and was moving towards it as quickly as he could when a Captain flashed in front of him, blocking his path. He had a painted, skeletal face and his upper row of teeth showed at all times, amber eyes glowing starkly from their sockets.

"Hello there, Arrancar," he said in a strained voice. "Looking for someone?"

"Yes," Schiffer replied coldly, "I am. Would you obstruct my search?"

"Are you an idiot?" the man asked. "What does it look like I'm doing? I'm not about to let someone just waltz in and steal my newest specimen, after all."

Ulquiorra's eyes widened in understanding at those words.

"Specimen?" he repeated. "Are you Mayuri Kurotsuchi?"

The Captain gave a wide smile.

"It seems as though my reputation precedes me," he said. "Excellent, most excellent. Yes, I am Mayuri Kurotsuchi. Who are you, Arrancar?"

"My name is Ulquiorra Schiffer," the Fourth Espada said as he drew his sword and readied it for battle,

"And I am going to destroy you."

* * *

**A/N: **I know I said the letter Nel wrote to Ulquiorra would make it into this chapter, but the story unfolded a bit differently than I had imagined earlier, and so the letter will have to wait for later. But rest assured, it will be revealed eventually; I'm not about to pull a MacGuffin. I hope you enjoyed this chapter, and as always, **please review**!


	15. Guinevere

**Disclaimer: **I do not own Bleach. Tite Kubo does.

**IMPORTANT A/N:** To anyone who read Chapter 13 (Betrayal) right when it was updated and hasn't read it since, I revised the end of the Aizen/Gin exchange that happens toward the end of the chapter a few days ago. It more-or-less completely shifts Aizen's M.O. to make it fit with a plot idea I came up with; basically, the change is that instead of saying he'll crush Ichigo, Sosuke wonders how long it'll take Ichigo to realize that the only place for someone like him is by his (Aizen's) side. I hope that explanation made sense.

Okay, now on with the story!

**Torn**

**Chapter 15:** Guinevere

* * *

"You are holding back, Ichigo Kurosaki," Byakuya ground out as he caught his breath, blood dripping down slowly from a gash in his forehead.

"Why?"

Ichigo whipped his white sword down sharply, causing the blood to fly off of the end and splatter down onto the ground.

"Why do you think, Byakuya?" he shot back, his white jacket sporting a gradually widening burgundy stain as dark blood spread out from a wound caused by the cold steel of Senbonzakura. "If I went all-out, you'd be a pile of body parts on the ground. And seeing as how you're Rukia's brother and all, I doubt she'd take that very well."

Kuchiki's steely eyes flashed.

"You still maintain to possess concern for her, brat?"

"Of course I do, you idiot," Ichigo snarled. "Why do you think I left with Aizen in the first place? I had to learn to control my Inner Hollow to keep from hurting Rukia, that's why!"

Byakuya's frown deepened, and he raised Senbonzakura once again.

"Do not use Rukia as a smokescreen to obscure your own shameful weaknesses, you bastard. Scatter, Senbonzakura."

Ichigo bit back a sigh as he weaved and dodged around the multitude of pink blades, the speed of his _bankai_ augmented even further by the Hollow powers it had gained from his subjugation of Hichigo.

"You're getting emotional, and it's making you sloppy," the orange-haired Soul Reaper observed in a scathing tone as he vanished and reappeared again and again in a whirlwind of flash-steps. "This isn't just about me being a 'traitor', is it? There must be some other reason why you're fighting so hard, Byakuya."

"You think this is me exerting myself, boy?" the Captain spat. "You should know better than that."

The blades of Senbonzakura doubled in speed as Byakuya began using and hand to direct them, threading the streams of razor-sharp fragments through the surrounding buildings and using them to pick up pieces of debris to hurl at Kurosaki, hoping to throw him off-balance. Ichigo sidestepped a roof tile with an almost cocky amount of grace, and was about to yell at Byakuya to stop wasting time and call out his _bankai_ when the brown-eyed warrior realized why the Captain had kept one hand free.

"_Bakudo number 61: Rikujokoro._"

The six rods of light slammed into Ichigo's abdomen a fraction of a second before he could flash away, pinning him in place.

"Shit…!" he swore, trying to break out of the _kido_ only to have Kuchiki's calm voice call out to him and halt his efforts.

"Do not struggle, you filth," Byakuya said sharply. "It will only make you die faster once I bring my full might to bear upon you, and I desire to prolong your agony as punishment for your transgressions." The Captain recalled his _shikai_, turning his blade to point down to the ground before letting it go.

"_Bankai_: _Senbonzakura Kageyoshi_."

Ichigo's yellow and black eyes narrowed in seething, sharply-focused fury. There was no way in hell he was going to be quartered like a slab of meat by a storm of pink blade shards while he stood here paralyzed. Gripping two of the beams of light currently confining him, the Soul Reaper channeled as much raw reiatsu into his hands as he could, ripping the _kido_ to shreds mere heartbeats before the tempest descended.

Hurling a _Getsuga Tensho_ at the swarm, Kurosaki watched in grim satisfaction as it sliced right through the attack and kept going, forcing Byakuya to switch from offense to defense in order to block the crescent of black energy. As Ichigo's strike tore through the last layer of defense, Kuchiki flashed away and reformed his zanpakuto from the myriad shards before charging the orange-haired Soul Reaper once again.

Kurosaki could read his movements like an open book, however, and tagged the Captain with a slash across his sword arm. Not deep enough to sever it, but enough for it to hurt like hell. Byakuya reflexively let go of his zanpakuto as the pain surged from his forearm down into his hand, and before he could blink the white blade was at his throat.

"Kill me," he spat, but Ichigo just shook his head, his yellow eyes cold.

"Why should I?"

"Because I would rather be dead than see Rukia ruin her life by tying it to a human like you, Ichigo Kurosaki."

Those unearthly yellow eyes thawed and widened in surprise, before returning to their normal brown as Ichigo relinquished his _bankai_.

"Ah," the Soul Reaper said, with a touch of bitterness creeping into his understanding tone. "So _that's_ what this is about. You couldn't give two shits if I was a traitor, Byakuya. This is about me being a human. What, do you think I'm weak just because I'm not a 'real' Soul Reaper?!" he half-snarled, but to his surprise the Captain's reply was a soft one. Pushing the blade away from his jugular, Kuchiki made no effort to draw his own as he spoke.

"You are not weak, Ichigo Kurosaki," he said. "If there is one thing you are not, it is spineless, or frail. You have defeated me not once, but twice on the field of battle; you have proven your might more times than many of the warriors I have met or have yet to meet. But none of this changes one very crucial thing about you:

"You are mortal."

Ichigo's expression shifted to one of something approaching sympathy as he slammed his sword into the ground; Byakuya had a story to tell, and he was going to listen. He had to understand what had made this man hate him so much, had to reconcile with him, or Byakuya would be an obstacle between him and Rukia for as long as he could breathe.

Which would be a very, very long time.

"You are mortal, Ichigo Kurosaki," the elder Kuchiki continued. "You will age, you will wither, and you will die a human's death, broken and pitiful and wasted. And when you come to Soul Society, you will forget everything about Rukia Kuchiki. And when this happens, if she has given you her heart, it will die with you.

"But she will not. She will live on, a soulless, empty husk pining every moment of every day for the happiness that was all too fleeting, that happiness that she will never experience again because of you. And I cannot let that happen to her, Kurosaki Ichigo. I promised myself, and I promised another who was very important to me, that I would not let that happen."

Ichigo was silent for several moments, but when he finally spoke, his voice formed a question.

"Who was she?"

Byakuya was surprised for a few heartbeats, but found his voice again soon enough.

"What did you say?"

The orange-haired Soul Reaper just sighed.

"The only person I've ever heard talk like that is my father, and that's only because he lost someone who meant the world to him, someone he loved. So who was she, Byakuya? Who did you fall in love with? Who left you?"

The Captain closed his eyes and sighed, as if he was pulling a lifetime of buried memories up to the surface. Eyes still closed, he began his story.

"Her name was Hisana," he spoke, his voice laced with something that seemed so out of place Ichigo had trouble figuring out what it was until he realized that it was the same tone of voice his father had always used when he had spoken seriously about his mother, usually next to her gravestone.

It was the voice of someone who had loved and lost, and never truly recovered. It was the voice of a broken heart.

Kurosaki listened to the story in silence, from their first encounter to his fight against the Kuchiki Clan elders to their eventual marriage and years of bliss.

Until the day Hisana's illness finally claimed her, and she left Byakuya forever. That day she left, taking a piece of his heart with her that the Captain would never be able to reclaim.

"I know how it feels, Ichigo Kurosaki," Kuchiki continued, and Ichigo could tell that his story was coming to a close. "I know how it feels to watch someone you love slip inexorably away from you, powerless to do anything to stop it. I know how it feels to live every single day afterwards as something less than what you were, a pale shadow of your former self. I am intimately familiar with that pain, Ichigo Kurosaki,

"And I would gladly die if it meant saving Rukia from that torment."

The brown-eyed Soul Reaper sighed heavily, feeling nothing but sympathy for the warrior before him.

"Even if that would break her heart? Even if that would leave her alone, a 'pale shadow of her former self'?"

"She would be fine," Byakuya insisted. "She is strong."

"So are we, Byakuya," Kurosaki replied, "and neither of us are fine."

There was a pause between the men that approached something like an amiable silence, broken by Ichigo's steadfast, determined tone.

"I'll make you a deal, Byakuya," he said. "We bury the hatchet, for Rukia's sake. She needs you as much as she needs me, in a way that I could never provide for her. If we keep fighting like this it's only going to ruin Rukia in the long run, and that's something neither of us wants."

"And you think you have the strength to keep her safe, Ichigo Kurosaki?"

The orange-haired Soul Reaper gave a melancholy smile, extending his hand.

"You give me your word, I'll give you mine."

Byakuya raised a tired hand and clasped Ichigo's, his eyes burning with an inner fire that belied his outward shape.

"If you break Rukia's heart, Ichigo Kurosaki," the Captain said gravely, "I will avenge her with all of the strength in my being."

"Right back at you," Ichigo said with a smile as he let his hand drop, preparing to flash away.

"I'm glad we finally understand each other, Byakuya," the orange-haired Soul Reaper spoke in parting as he picked up his sword and vanished. When he was alone once again, the Kuchiki Captain sighed.

"Surely," he spoke to no one in particular, "that boy does not intend to keep calling me by my first name."

* * *

**A/N:** Sorry it took me so long to update this chapter, but both a paper and writer's block conspired against me; I couldn't figure out how to write this scene for the longest time, until I decided to not write it like a fight and more like an honest, no-holds-barred exchange between these two people explaining why they feel the way they do in regards to Rukia. Some of you might decry this as being rampantly OoC on the part of Byakuya, but I couldn't think of another way to write this exchange that worked nearly as well. Besides, Ichigo and Byakuya have a lot more in common than they would like to admit, and I wanted to bring that to the surface. I hope you enjoyed this chapter, **please review**, and I'll try to get the next part up faster.


	16. Float Like an Alleycat, Sting Like a Bee

**Disclaimer: **I do not own Bleach, or any of its characters. Tite Kubo does.

**Torn**

**Chapter 16: **Float Like an Alleycat, Sting Like a Bee

* * *

As they traded blows back and forth, Grimmjow noticed that his opponent was favoring one leg over the other and he smirked wickedly.

"I guess that kick of yours took more outta ya than you thought it would, woman," he taunted. "This _hierro_ ain't just for show; you should know better, being a Captain and all."

"You're a talkative little bastard, ain'tcha?" Yoruichi shot back. She nailed the Espada with a hard punch to the gut, only to have him stand perfectly still, smile widely, and spit a stream of blood right at her face. As she recoiled for a brief moment, Jaegerjaques used the Captain's lapse in concentration to his advantage and delivered a harsh uppercut to her abdomen. Yoruichi was thrown backwards, and Grimmjow's blue eyes gleamed.

"_That's_ how you do it," he said. "I woulda gone for a proper uppercut, but it would have been a crime to scar a face as nice as yours."

"Flattery will get you nowhere, kid," Shihoin replied as she regained her footing. That last punch had hit her like a right hook from Tessai, but there was something about it that bothered the Captain, something about his style that she couldn't quite place. Yoruichi twisted her body to the side just in time to avoid a quick jab, and just watching the Espada gave her that nagging feeling again.

Well, there was only one way to find out what it was, and that was to keep this cocky little brat fighting. So, for now, she would keep her ace in its hole. The slugfest wore on, but the golden-eyed Shihoin noticed that with each blow she landed, the blue-haired warrior's smile only got wider.

"What's so funny?" Yoruichi half-growled as she trapped Grimmjow in a chokehold, only to have him twist out of it like an eel and sling her over his shoulders. As she skidded along the ground before easing into a backflip to kill the rest of her momentum, the dark-skinned Captain finally realized what had been nagging at her about the Espada's fighting style.

He fought like Soi Fon. His style was more animalistic and more instinctive than hers, but the core mechanics were the same. If she were to have stripped away those years and years of disciplined training from her old protégé, Yoruichi could swear she would fight just like this scrappy Espada. It was too big of a coincidence to leave unanswered, and the golden-eyed Shihoin had always hated loose ends. But if she was going to interrogate this ingrate, she needed to do it somewhere away from prying eyes. And before she committed to anything that serious, she had to be sure.

"You fight like someone I know," she said, as a respite came following the most recent exchange of blows. Grimmjow got that smile on his face again, wiping a trickle of blood from the corner of his mouth.

"Who, the one who should be wearing that _haori_ right now?" he quipped. "Makes sense, seeing as how I was the one who taught Shaolin to throw a punch in the first place."

Okay, that was just bizarre. Something was going on here, and Yoruichi felt a burning need to know what it was. Scowling, she cursed the fact that Kisuke seemed to be rubbing off on her more than she would have liked to admit. Brushing the images of that self-satisfied smile and ridiculous striped hat out of her mind, Yoruichi focused and tapped into the hidden well of power that she kept locked away in the corner of her soul for special occasions like this one.

Grimmjow's smug smile faded as he felt the Captain's reiatsu spike massively in an instant, white energy coalescing all around her like some kind of barely-controlled lightning storm. Yoruichi vanished from sight in a heartbeat, only to reappear right in front of the now wide-eyed Espada and slam a haymaker of a hook into his jaw. As Jaegerjaques flew through the air and his eyes fluttered shut, he had time to be grateful for one thing.

_I'm glad Ichigo wasn't here to see that,_ he thought to himself as the world went hazy. _Little fucker would never let me hear the end of it._

The blue-eyed warrior slipped into oblivion's loving embrace a heartbeat before he hit the ground with a thud. Yoruichi eased up on the _shunko_ and looked down at the unconscious Arrancar, her eyes widening in surprise when she saw his eyelids twitching lightly, but staying closed.

He was dreaming. About what, the Captain didn't know, but she would be sure to ask him when he woke up.

"C'mon, Espada," Yoruichi said with a grunt as she hoisted the Espada up over her shoulder in a fireman's carry, "let's you and me have a little heart-to-heart."

The Goddess of Flash disappeared in a burst of reiatsu, taking her captive with her.

* * *

"Grimmjow! Grimmjow, are you okay?"

The blue-eyed boy opened his eyes and groaned, his vision slowly ceasing to swim and revealing a pair of dark eyes looking down at him concernedly, framed by equally dark, short hair.

"I'm fine," he forced out, rubbing the bruise on his jaw where Shaolin's fist had connected with surprising strength and speed. "Damn, Shaolin," the boy said with an undercurrent of admiration, "your hook's getting meaner by the day. Why exactly did you want me to train you, again? You're a natural at this."

The dark-eyed girl sighed, helping her sparring partner and teacher to his feet.

"Because ever since that little stunt you pulled a while back, that thug and his boys have been sizing me up like a piece of meat. It creeps me out, and if those bastards make a move I wanna be ready for it."

"The stunt _I_ pulled?" Grimmjow spat back, indignant. "_You_ were the one who kicked that bastard in the junk. Four times, I might add. What did you think was going to happen?"

Fon's dark eyes narrowed and Jaegerjaques felt his pulse beginning to speed up, but he held his ground even as the fierce girl in front of him tightened her grip on his hand and moved closer to him.

"I didn't need your help," she growled. "I was handling the situation just fine."

This time it was Grimmjow who moved closer, his eyes blazing.

"You were handling it?" he repeated, incredulous. "They had you up against the wall and were pounding you to a pulp! If I hadn't come along, they would've… they would've…"

The blue-haired boy's voice stuck in his throat as Shaolin moved even closer, so close that he could see his reflection in her onyx orbs. His heart started to beat uncharacteristically fast, and he wasn't naïve enough to think that it was just from the workout.

"They would have _what_?" she half-hissed, her voice coiling itself around his lungs and squeezing every drop of breath from them. She was close, so close it was painful. If he wanted to, he could just move an inch closer and…

"Nothing," he grunted, turning away and yanking his hand out of the girl's deceptively strong grip. "Forget about it."

If he had been looking at his friend in that moment, Jaegerjaques would have seen a thick shadow of disappointment pass over Shaolin's face before she forced it away, willing her breathing to return to normal. She had been so close… why hadn't she done anything? Better yet, why had he pulled away?

"What the hell's your problem, Grimmjow?" she half-snarled, unable to keep all of the hurt from her voice. The blue-haired boy shrugged roughly, turning back around and regarding her with atypical detachment.

"Forget about it," he repeated. "And stop standing there like a statue; you're here to learn how ta fight, not just look pretty."

The Freudian slip and the look in those sharp blue eyes when Grimmjow realized what he'd just said turned Shaolin's anger into something else entirely. Advancing with liquid, feline grace to match his own and a predatory smile on her face, the dark-haired girl moved towards her teacher with a decidedly wicked glint in her eyes. Her smile widened in satisfaction as she saw she had Grimmjow effectively paralyzed, like a snake at the mercy of its charmer. Lashing out, she landed a sharp blow on the other side of Jaegerjaques' jaw.

"It isn't always a good idea to never take your eyes off of your opponent, _sensei_," Shaolin said in a tone that was as edged as it was tempting. She was dangerous, very dangerous.

And Grimmjow couldn't care less. He loved a bit of danger in his life; it kept things interesting.

"And it isn't a good idea to start fighting no-holds-barred if you aren't ready to take as good as you can give, _student_," the blue-eyed boy growled back in a way that made Shaolin's knees go unexpectedly weak. Jaegerjaques saw the effect his words had produced and pounced, cutting the dark-haired girl's legs out from under her with a flawless sweep kick. Her fall was cushioned by the layers of rugs they had set up as an impromptu mat, but before she could get up Shaolin found herself pinned down by a decidedly hungry gaze from the two blue eyes no more than six inches away from her. Grimmjow's hands had come down right next to each of Fon's shoulders: suddenly, it was the muscular, compact spitfire of a girl who couldn't breathe.

"Gotcha," Jaegerjaques said with a teasing lilt to his voice. "You wonderin' why I didn't make a move back there, Shaolin?"

The girl tried to speak, but her tongue refused to function. When the blue-haired teenager continued, his voice turned oddly serious even though the fire continued to smolder behind his eyes.

"It's cause if there's one thing I promised myself I'd never do, it's force myself on a girl. I had'ta be sure you were okay with this. Are you?"

Expecting some kind of silent nod, insistent remark or even, his ego chimed in, a breathless moan of anticipation, Grimmjow was caught completely off-guard when Shaolin got her second wind, sprung upwards, and reversed their positions with the speed and precision of a striking viper.

"Who said you could be on top, Grimmjow?" she said, her voice holding a slightly husky edge to it that stilled the blue-eyed teen's pride-fueled comeback on the tip of his tongue. He would let her win this one, he decided. Just this once. Besides, he thought before those fierce lips descended and captured his own, obliterating all rational thought, it's not like he wasn't getting anything out of it.

Next time, though, he promised himself. Next time, he was going to show this minx what was what.

* * *

Grimmjow snapped out of the vision with a growl; these freaking hallucinations were getting more and more real by the incident, and that almost scared him. Blinking a few times to clear his vision, the Espada was surprised to find himself not in a dank cell somewhere, but in a rather well-lit and comfortable-feeling office. Pushing himself off of the bed he had been lying on, Jaegerjaques got up with a small groan and shuffled over to a shelf near the window with a slight limp, eyes drawn to the array of photographs sitting on it.

There was one in particular his sharp eyes settled on: Shaolin was standing next to the woman who had knocked Grimmjow out earlier… Yoruichi, she had said her name was. The young woman in the picture he knew to be Shaolin Fon couldn't have been more than 19, but then again, given the way souls 'aged', she could have just as easily been 119. There was a bright smile on her face that brought the ghost of one to Grimmjow's, which sharpened into a frown as he saw that the purple-haired woman had one hand on Shaolin's head and was ruffling her hair affectionately.

Something akin to primal possessiveness welled up in the Arrancar, almost driving him to put a hole in the nearby wall with his fist before he stopped himself long enough to wonder why he was feeling this way all of a sudden. What was this woman doing to him, and more importantly, why did he seem to dream about her every time he was either knocked out or went to sleep? What the hell was going on with those weird visions, and why the hell wouldn't they leave him in peace?

"Ah, I see you're awake," a calm, cool voice called out from behind him, and Grimmjow whirled around to find himself glaring at none other than Yoruichi Shihoin.

"What do you want, woman?" Jaegerjaques growled, but all the purple-haired Captain did in reply was smile, supremely confident in her strength.

"What I want, Arrancar, are answers. Answers to some very puzzling questions."

"I don't have time for this," the Espada snarled, reaching for his zanpakuto only to wind up grasping at air.

"Looking for this?" Shihoin asked as she held up a sword currently housed in a light blue sheath, faintly humming with energy. Grimmjow instinctively used _sonido_ to cross the room, only to find nothing in front of him. Spinning around, Jaegerjaques had to bite back a frustrated roar as he saw that Yoruichi had flashed over to the spot that he had been occupying only a heartbeat earlier.

"I ain't called the 'Goddess of Flash' for nothing, kid," the golden-eyed Captain said with a smirk. "Start talking, and I might find it in my heart to give you your zanpakuto back."

"Why should I believe you, woman?" the Arrancar spat, and Yoruichi shrugged.

"Because you don't have a choice? That, and I know you didn't come here to kill me; you came here to rescue your friend. Like you said, you don't have time to waste trying to defeat me while I kick the shit out of you. So start talking, Espada," The Captain concluded as she sat down in a nearby chair, crossed her legs and waited. Grimmjow sighed, shrugged and spoke.

"What do you want to know, woman?"

"How do you know so much about Soi Fon?" Yoruichi asked sharply, and the blue-eyed warrior smirked.

"You mean Shaolin?"

"Stop calling her that!" the golden-eyed Soul Reaper snapped, exasperated.

"Why?" Jaegerjaques pressed, unable to resist needling the distraught Soul Reaper across from him.

"Because…" Yoruichi began, before exhaling sharply and throwing her arms up in the air in exasperation. "Because it freaks me out, okay!? No one outside of me ever calls her by that name, and I only do it when I want to get under her skin. How could you, an Arrancar, possibly know her name?"

Instead of uttering some grand, profound revelation like she expected, Shihoin felt her blood pressure spike as the blue-haired Espada just shrugged nonchalantly.

"I'm not so sure myself, to be honest," he said, seemingly about to say something else before he changed his mind, shooting a question at his interrogator as a theory took root in his mind.

"D'you ever remember anything from the time back before you became a soul, when you were still human?"

"No; that's impossible," Yoruichi answered, before she blinked and frowned. "Oi, I'm supposed to be asking the questions here, smartass!"

"Then ask 'em, woman," Grimmjow shot back, the cocky tenor in his tone making Yoruichi want to shift into her cat form and scratch his vocal chords out.

"You still haven't answered my first one, Espada," she growled. "How do you know so much about Soi Fon?"

"I told you I wasn't sure," the Arrancar snarled, his temper rising once again. "They started after her zanpakuto clashed with mine, that's all I know for sure."

Yoruichi raised a slender eyebrow.

"What started?" she asked, curiosity creeping into her voice.

"The visions," Grimmjow clarified. "They're usually of me and Shaolin, but they're so vivid it's almost like they could be memories. Of what, hell if I know, but that's what it feels like."

The golden-eyed Captain's brow furrowed in concentration as she thought about the odd situation. When she connected the dots between the dream the Espada had appeared to be having when he had been knocked out and these 'visions' he had described, a wicked smirk crossed her face that put Grimmjow decidedly on edge.

Clearly, some experimentation was in order.

Before Jaegerjaques could blink, Yoruichi was in front of him and had knocked him out with a hard sucker-punch to the head.

"Sorry, kid," the Captain apologized softly as she eased the Espada down onto the nearby bed, "but I'm sure you would have started a scuffle otherwise, and I'm tired of brawling. Okay," the purple-haired Shihoin said determinedly as she moved to the head of the bed and put her fingers on each of Grimmjow's temples, letting her eyes flutter closed,

"Let's see what you're dreaming about this time, shall we?"

* * *

**A/N:** Sorry about the lack of outright action in that chapter, but the next two fights will more than make up for it. And Yoruichi might have been a bit OoC during her talk with Grimmjow, but it was needed to have the scene unfold the way it had to. I hope you enjoyed this chapter, and as always, **please review**!


	17. Primal Rage

**Disclaimer: **I do not own Bleach, or any of its characters. Tite Kubo does.

**Torn**

**Chapter 17: **Primal Rage

* * *

"Well, I'll say this much," the spiky-haired Captain said as the two berserkers broke apart from their latest clash, each of them sporting about five new wounds. "You definitely have more guts than Ichigo. What exactly are ya, kid?"

Hichigo snorted, beginning to whirl his inverted Zangetsu around in a circle over his head by its hilt-strap.

"Does it matter?" he asked sharply. "All you should be worried about right now is staying alive, maggot!"

The Hollow hurled the blade towards Zaraki, who caught the top of it in his bare hand and smiled widely. Pulling hard, he intended to draw his enemy in closer and throw him off balance before moving in for the kill.

Hichigo had anticipated that, however, and used the extra momentum he gained from the Soul Reaper's pull to fuel a speeding dropkick that connected with Kenpachi's face and resulted in a sickening crunch. As the Captain was rocked backwards from the blow, Hichigo used his recoil to his advantage and yanked as hard as he could. His mouth curled up into a smile bleeding with twisted satisfaction as his zanpakuto was forced from Zaraki's flagging grip and returned to him, the end dripping with blood. Bringing the tip right up next to his face, the Hollow extended his tongue and slowly licked the dark substance from the end of the sword.

"Delicious," he hissed, his pupils dilating briefly at the sensation. "There's a lot of power running through your blood, Soul Reaper," Hichigo finished as he charged once again, "and I'm gonna take it all!"

Kenpachi's eyes widened as he blocked the powerful strike, the blade of his own jagged zanpakuto screaming out as the inverted Zangetsu bore down upon it, trying to break it in half and seemingly about to succeed.

"You want to know what I am, you bastard?" the pale warrior crooned with a berserker's madness shining in his yellow eyes. "I'm every wrathful thought you've ever had. I'm the darkness that gnaws in the back of your brain every time you want to draw your sword but can't, the voice telling you to screw decorum and hack the fucker to pieces. I'm that thrill that sings in your blood every time you lock blades with someone, every time you wound someone or they wound you. I'm pure instinct, Soul Reaper, and that's why I'm gonna butcher you!"

The Eleventh Division Captain slid back a few inches as the Hollow pressed forward, and it seemed like he was beginning to crack until a huge smile appeared on his face and he began laughing like a lunatic.

"Pure instinct? Really?" he shouted. "That's great news. If all you have behind your blade is instinct, this shouldn't be a problem for me at all!"

Kenpachi broke out of the deadlock and let Hichigo's zanpakuto follow through, angling his head so that it cut his eyepatch strap before jumping backwards. The surge of reiatsu that resulted was nothing short of titanic, but the Hollow remained confident.

"I've seen this before, Kenpachi Zaraki," he spit scornfully, readying his zanpakuto for another clash. "Show me something new!"

Kenpachi just continued to laugh and rushed forwards, raining down a furious string of hacks and stabs that pushed a shocked Hichigo onto the defensive.

"Just like I thought," Zaraki taunted as he followed through on a stab that ripped a chunk out of the Hollow's shoulder. "You bark all day when your opponent's dumb enough to let you have the offensive, but mad dogs like you always lose their bite once the other guy decides to stop messing around and get serious for a change!"

"Shit!" the pale warrior cursed as he almost lost his dominant arm, jumping back at the last possible moment and catching his breath as Kenpachi just stood there, looking like a demon in all of its bloodstained and manic glory.

"What's wrong?" the Captain asked disdainfully, whipping his sword downwards to get the blood off of it. "Why don't you use _kido_, or flash-steps? I won't think any less of you, little Hollow."

"Fuck you!" Hichigo yelled, striking now with desperation and the bitter frustration befitting a man trying to punch through a concrete wall with just his bare fist. "I don't need _kido_ or flash-steps to kill you, Zaraki! I'll rip you apart with my goddamn teeth!"

"_Your_ teeth?" Kenpachi shot back, an incredulous look on his face. "Since when is anything _yours_, Hollow? All I see when I look in your eyes are the base emotions Ichigo rejected when he forced you out of him. You're nothing more than a shadow, an empty shell. Strip away your instinct, and there's nothing there. _You_ are nothing, and that's why you never had a chance against me from the very beginning."

Before Hichigo could so much as blink, he felt an almost calming pain ripple out from the center of his chest. Looking down slowly as his pupils dilated again, this time from shock rather than the high of battle, he saw that the Captain's zanpakuto had pierced him clean through his chest.

"Interesting," the Hollow heard Zaraki mumble faintly as his hearing began to go fuzzy, "I gave you enough time to block that, but you didn't. Maybe you finally get it, kid."

If the Captain said anything else after that, Hichigo didn't hear him. He was on his back looking up at the sky, the soft clouds going hazier and hazier as his blood flowed out into a cushioning pool beneath him. He'd gotten beaten down so easily it was sickening; whenever he'd fought with Ichigo he'd always had the upper hand, and that sneaky bastard had only won by pulling some miracle trick out of his ass. As that thought bounced around in his head, the Hollow sighed in bitter understanding.

Maybe that was the problem. The only person he'd ever fought had been Ichigo, someone he knew like the back of his hand because, in some ways, they were the same being. But in other ways, they couldn't be more different, and yet, Kurosaki had always been his anchor. He had defined his entire existence by being precisely everything Ichigo _wasn't_, and that was it. That spiky-haired bastard was right: without Ichigo, the pale warrior was nothing more than a mass of primal emotions. He might have had a body, but the Hollow had no sense of self.

"Who the hell am I…?" Hichigo breathed out, bitterness and confusion lacing his voice. He was about to pass into oblivion, and most likely welcome death, when a sharp, sudden pain slammed into his midsection and jolted him back to awareness.

"Wake up, whitey!"

The Hollow shouted in surprise and gagged, blinking a few times to clear his vision and seeing that a small, pink-haired sprite had perched itself on his chest.

"Who the hell are you?" Hichigo rasped out, drawing a giggle from the strange girl.

"I'm Ken-chan's Lieutenant, Yachiru Kusajishi," she exclaimed cheerily, "and I'm gonna patch you up!"

"What the fuck…?" the yellow-eyed Hollow mumbled in confusion at this sudden turn of events. "Why would you heal me when I just tried to kill your boss, kid?"

"You don't have much of a brain up there, do ya, whitey?" the miniature Lieutenant said snarkily. "Ken-chan wanted me to patch you up so that you can get stronger and fight him again some time, so that what I'm doing! He needs more friends than just Ichi, after all."

Part of Hichigo wanted to shove this little pixie off of him and chop her in half, but he lacked the strength and, frankly, didn't feel like it. As he struggled with this odd contradiction in his head, the Hollow was given yet another shock as the sensation of pain in his chest faded into nothing more than a whisper, replaced by a cool, soothing feeling. Craning his neck upwards, Hichigo saw Yachiru mumbling steadily with her hands hovering over the wound, chanting a soft stream of tranquil words.

"What're you doing?" the wounded warrior asked, before shouting out in pain as a fist crashed into his forehead.

"Shut _up_, whitey!" Kusajishi growled. "If you keep flapping your yap, I'm not gonna be able to heal you and you're gonna die. And if you die, Ken-chan'll be really upset and I can't let that happen!"

Not wanting to be further humiliated by this bizarrely strong girl, Hichigo sighed and let her continue. A few moments later, the cooling feeling abated and the Hollow felt the pressure on his chest vanish.

"All done!" Yachiru chirped. "If you don't mind, I'm just gonna—Ichi! What're you doing here?"

The prone, pale warrior wanted nothing more than to curl up and die as the smug laughter of his brother floated over to his ears.

"Hey, Yachiru. Did you take care of him all by yourself?"

"No, that was Ken-chan. I just healed him."

There was another one of those damn chuckles.

"That's too bad," Ichigo replied, a shit-eating grin in his voice. "I can take it from here, Yachiru. Tell Zaraki I said… actually, don't tell him anything," Kurosaki finished hastily, his voice nervous as he realized what he'd almost just said. The Lieutenant vanished a moment later, leaving the two brothers alone. A few seconds later, Hichigo's vision was filled with a grinning face, a pair of shining, mirthful brown eyes and a shock of unruly orange hair.

"Hey there," Ichigo said teasingly, and Hichigo scowled.

"If I could move right now, my hands would be around your throat and squeezing slowly," he hissed, but it didn't come out with as much conviction as usual. The Hollow wrote it off to fatigue, but his Soul Reaper counterpart was puzzled. Ichigo kept his questions to himself, however, and hoisted his comrade to his feet over the Hollow's protestations. As he limped along, braced by his brother, Hichigo couldn't stop asking himself why he was still alive.

"I asked myself that question for days after my fight with Kenpachi," Ichigo spoke out, as if he'd read the pale warrior's mind. "You know what the answer is?"

"What?"

Kurosaki sighed as he replied, turning his face to look into his brother's.

"There isn't one. Kenpachi let you live because he wanted to, that's all. It has nothing to do with you. Let it go, and move on; we have too much to worry about right now."

Hichigo nodded reluctantly as he moved away from Ichigo's support, but there was little certainty in his eyes.

Something had begun to change in him, and whether or not he knew what it was, there was no stopping it now.

* * *

**A/N:** It's back, ladies and gentlemen. Sorry about the long hiatus, but writer's block, schoolwork and my traitorously overactive imagination got in the way. Sorry this chapter was so short, but rest assured that the next one is already underway, the fight everyone's been waiting for: Ulquiorra vs. Mayuri. Still, I hope you enjoyed this chapter despite its brevity, and as always, **please review**!


	18. Nightmare's Wings

**Disclaimer:** I do not own Bleach. I do, however, own this story.

**Torn**

**Chapter 18: **Nightmare's Wings

* * *

Mayuri looked his stoic opponent straight in the eye, evaluated his threat and his stance with the eyes of an expert scientist, and proceeded to do the last thing Ulquiorra Schiffer ever expected.

He began to laugh. Long, loud, shrill and disturbing to the ears of all but the most hardened or accustomed listeners, the cackles almost unsettled even the Fourth Espada. Almost.

"You're… you're… oh, this is too good… you're going to destroy me, Espada?! Gods, you're even funnier than that whore I have shackled up in my lab, rotting to death. What was her name again…? Oh, that's right," he finished, a manic light in his eyes and a grin plastered on his skull-like face, "it was Neliel."

Ulquiorra's fist had been clenching tighter and tighter around his sword's hilt as the slime in front of him had carried on his rant, but even though blood was beginning to run from his hand the Fourth Espada was determined to bide his time and wait for an opening. When he heard Nel's name spoken that way by the bastard of a Soul Reaper in front of him, however, something deep inside of Schiffer snapped. It was as if every single ounce of emotion that he had kept locked away and stagnating since the moment he had become an Arrancar burst forth at once with the strength of a tsunami.

It almost crushed him, the impulse to tear and rend and slaughter and wreak upon this garbage one hundred times the suffering the Soul Reaper had inflicted upon Neliel. But Ulquiorra mastered the initial onslaught of emotion and stood firm, focusing that raw hatred, the visceral, primal need to kill into a cold, hard edge of tempered malice that would cut through any obstacle in its path.

Mayuri Kurotsuchi was going to pay, and pay dearly. Concentrating every ounce of his reiatsu into his sword arms and the blade grasped between his hands, the Fourth Espada vanished with a buzz and reappeared in front of the Captain. Ulquiorra swung down with all of his might…

And hit nothing but air and the stone in front of his feet.

_What the hell?_

No sooner had he finished the thought than the Fourth Espada felt a searing pain in his right shoulder. His eyes looked over slowly in shock to behold a deep gash that had suddenly appeared, running from his shoulder blade to halfway down his pectoral muscle. When he tried to move the wounded limb, Ulquiorra found that it had somehow been paralyzed, despite still managing to hurt like hell.

"Surprised, Espada?"

Schiffer spun around, shifting his sword to his left hand exclusively and fighting the urge to cringe in pain. He never cringed for any reason, let alone a wound inflicted by this scumbag. Mayuri Kurotsuchi had somehow wound up a few paces away, holding the _shikai_ of his zanpakuto in his hand. The three-pronged blade was dripping with black blood, and those damn amber eyes were still gleaming with that same insane intensity.

"You're wondering how I was able to outpace you, _and_ inflict such a deep wound, all without you noticing. I can see it in your bewildered, ignorant little eyes, boy. I guess I was wrong to expect so much of you, but after that bitch wouldn't stop moaning and screaming about how you were going to come rescue her, well," here the Captain's grin widened, "I guess I got a little too excited at the prospect of a new specimen to experiment on."

"Who are you?" Ulquiorra asked as calmly as he could, stunned that a Captain whom Aizen had only given a passing mention was outflanking _him_, the Fourth Espada and one of the precious few Vasto Lorde in Hueco Mundo. Mayuri let loose with a fresh bout of cackles.

"That's always the first question they ask," he spat out, half to himself. "Who are you, who are you, who are you… that _doesn't matter, you imbecile!_" he finished with a scream, vanishing again. Schiffer boosted his reiatsu up as high as he was able in his state and tried to get a bead on his opponent. The only thing he sensed, though, was another flash of searing pain, this time in his left leg.

"What matters isn't _who_ is using the techniques," the mad scientist hissed from behind the Espada once again, "but _how_ they have achieved such power. That is where true understanding lies, boy, although I would not expect someone such as yourself to comprehend such a concept."

"Damn it…" Ulquiorra cursed, his traitorous leg giving out from under him and forcing him to one knee. "I refuse to be defeated by a worm such as you, Kurotsuchi. I have not come this far to fail now."

"Quite right, quite right," the Captain replied, vanishing again.

"You came here to die, Arrancar."

Realizing that his enemy would probably try to slash at his left arm and render him totally helpless, the Espada raised his weapon into a blocking stance as fast as he could and was rewarded with the sound of steel clashing on steel instead of another burst of excruciating agony.

"Hmm, interesting," Mayuri mused. "It seems as though you have a brain in your head after all. No matter," he continued, breaking the deadlock. "That will only elongate this farce by a minimal amount."

Schiffer's eyes widened as Kurotsuchi's arm became little more than a blur, and it was only a reflexive roll to the side that kept his head from being cleaved in half. As the insane Captain vanished again and reappeared some paces off, the Espada had a decidedly unpleasant revelation.

This bastard wasn't using flash steps. That was why it had been impossible to draw a bead on him earlier; he was masking his reiatsu and literally running circles around him. But how could someone be so fast? It was…

"Impossible, no?" The Captain crooned. "Under normal circumstances, I would be inclined to agree with you, Arrancar; however, these circumstances are anything but normal. Shall I tell you the secret to my strength?"

"Save it for your last breath," Ulquiorra shot back, raising his forefinger from the hilt of his zanpakuto and firing off a quick _bala_. It didn't make contact, but it did act as a perfect diversion to cover his real gambit. When Mayuri appeared directly in front of him, sword high and poised to impale him right in the chest, Schiffer let a rare smirk form on his lips as he angled his right hand upward. A full-blown _cero_ had just finished coalescing there, and it hit the surprised Kurotsuchi dead-on.

"You should've cut my whole arm off, fool," The Arrancar said with icy scorn as he forced himself to his feet, beginning to limp away before a surge of reiatsu from behind him stopped the Fourth Espada in his tracks.

"Fool?" a voice rasped out from behind him. "_I_, a fool? Watch your tongue, boy!"

Having regained his footing and conquered his shock, Ulquiorra was more than prepared for the straightforward attack as the Captain charged right at his back. Positioning his sword behind his back at a diagonal angle, the Espada braced himself and received the blow without giving an inch.

"So, you have your weaknesses after all," Schiffer spoke evenly, his voice returning to its normal state of tightly-controlled lethality. "Your pride will be the death of you, Mayuri Kurotsuchi."

Before he gave the Captain the chance to go on the offensive again, Ulquiorra vanished with a buzz, reappeared behind his foe and let fly with a _bala_. Kurotsuchi twisted out of the way, and Schiffer noticed with savage glee that he could follow his enemy's moves now. It must have been some kind of augmentation or drug that had allowed him to move so quickly, and it was about to wear off. Forcing his lame leg to cooperate with another burst of _sonido_, the Fourth Espada flashed forward with a buzz and slashed out, finally landing a blow as his zanpakuto ripped through the Soul Reaper's shoulder and severed his arm completely.

"Shit, shit, shit, shit!" Kurotsuchi swore. "_Bakudo number 81: Danku!_"

The Captain used the time it took Ulquiorra to shatter the barrier to regain his breath and his footing. Removing a small syringe from his robe, Mayuri jammed it into the stump of his amputated arm and began the limb's regenerative process.

"God damn that trifling whore I call my Lieutenant," he raved. "She assured me the dose she'd mixed would last for ten minutes, and it's barely been five!"

Schiffer's eyes narrowed in satisfaction as his hypothesis was confirmed, but the nagging question of how this piece of trash had been able to carve through his _hierro_ was still unanswered.

"So I was right," the Fourth Espada said coldly. "You need to rely on artifical means to conquer your opponents, Mayuri Kurotsuchi, because you lack the strength to do it yourself. You shame the title of Captain, Soul Reaper."

"Silence yourself, brat!" the skeletal-faced man shouted, raising up his newly-healed arm and launching a burst of raw energy at the Espada. Ulquiorra was able to dodge most of it, but the edge of the blast nicked his shoulder as it flew by. The Arrancar's green eyes narrowed in pain as he suddenly felt like his shoulder was being melted; which, as it turned out, was the truth. His skin, for all of its vaunted _hierro_, was being seared away faster than butter melting under a hot flame. Schiffer reduced his shout of pain to a gritted grunt as layers of flesh and muscle dissolved to reveal shining white bone. Before he could give voice to the question screaming in his head, Mayuri took it upon himself to edify his opponent.

"Did you know that the _hierro_ of every Arrancar shares the same basic composition of spirit particles, Espada?" he spoke out. "All that varies from Arrancar to Arrancar is the density of that layer of particles. Which means that once I know how to break through one _hierro_, I can break through them all. And guess whose skin I used to crack the code?"

Ulquiorra's eyes widened in shock and then narrowed in murderous rage as images of a mutilated, burned and scarred Neliel flashed through his head.

"That's right," the Captain crooned. "It took me a couple hundred tries, but eventually I managed to cut through that slut's supposedly impenetrable _hierro_. Of course," he finished maniacally, "after I'd solved that puzzle, further experimentation was required. You should have heard her screams, Espada. Oh my, were they exquisite."

The raging pain in his shoulder receded like wheat before a scythe as Schiffer felt the purest hatred he had ever known well up from the core of his being, obliterating all sense of pain, discomfort and hesitation as it spread. It lifted him up like a thermal rising from the pits of Hell, and soon the world had been reduced to Ulquiorra's hand, the zanpakuto it was holding and the miserable bastard who he was about to hack to pieces.

Disappearing in a flash of _sonido_ so fast it singed the air in his wake, Schiffer gripped his sword in both hands and willed his right arm to life, bringing his zanpakuto up in a rising slash that would have split Kurotsuchi in half had he not jumped back at the last possible second. As it stood, though, a deep gash had been torn from the Captain's abdomen up to his sternum, all but disemboweling him. Ulquiorra pressed his assault, heedless of the face that he was pushing himself close to his limit given his current state. The only things that mattered now were relieving this bastard of his head and rescuing Neliel before it was entirely too late.

Mayuri, on the other hand, was hovering around the polar opposite end of the emotional spectrum. Stripped of his one major advantage, the Captain was becoming more and more frantic as the supposedly maimed and incapacitated Espada was driving at him like an unchained whirlwind. He had to do something to even the odds fast, or he wasn't going to make it out of this alive. And when he did walk away from this brat's emaciated, poisoned corpse, Mayuri vowed that he was going to stab Nemu through the chest with his zanpakuto and snap the blade in half.

"_Hado number 58: Tenran!_"

The Captain smiled in perverse glee as he watched the Arrancar before him get swept up into the air like a ragdoll by the _kido_, his momentum stymied completely.

"_Hado number 63: Raikoho!_"

Ulquiorra saw the wave of destructive golden _kido_ racing towards him and powered up a _cero_, slamming his own attack into the heart of the offensive spell. As the _kido_ split apart like a cloven piece of timber, Schiffer executed a hasty _sonido_ and returned himself to the ground, mindful of the enchantment placed over the Seireitei that prohibited harnessing reiatsu to walk on air.

"Die!" Mayuri shouted, launching another burst of the _hierro_-obliterating energy at his foe. Ulquiorra dodged and charged again, the blade of his zanpakuto grinding against Kurotsuchi's _shikai_ until one of the zanpakuto's blades was sliced clean off. As the sword itself howled in pain and rage, the effect of its ability on Schiffer's limbs seem to slacken. It didn't restore his full range of motion, but even the ability to twitch was preferable to complete paralysis.

As his right arm lurched back to a sort of lethargic, half-mobile state, the Espada cracked a vicious smirk and began his assault afresh. Finishing a string of strikes off with a _bala_ that obliterated the Captain's newly-repaired arm, Schiffer moved away and began to prepare for a massive _sonido_ when a rasping cackle jolted him out of his thoughts.

"You think this is over, Espada?" the Captain barked, the blood ebbing from multiple gashes and wounds not seeming to faze him in the slightest. "This battle ends when you are reduced to a plague-ridden husk! _Bankai!_"

Ulquiorra's face twisted into an expression of exasperation, bizarre wonderment and disgust as the cape-wearing, mutant caterpillar-baby hybrid known as Konjiki Ashisogi Jizo made his grand entrance.

"What the hell is that thing?" the Fourth Espada asked, and Kurotsuchi smiled.

"This is my _bankai_," he crooned, "Konjiki Ashisogi Jizo. The poison this thing breathes will obliterate you, Espada. Destroy him!"

The freakish monster that perfectly reflected the abomination that was the soul of Mayuri Kurotsuchi charged, spikes protruding from its abdomen and some kind of vile purple gas flowing out from its mouth. Ulquiorra dodged to the side and carved a gash along the flank of the monster with his zanpakuto, but the beast showed no signs of slowing down.

Fighting back the urge to snarl in frustration, Schiffer swallowed his pride and accepted that he was going to have to pull out his last ace-in-the-hole if he was going to end this quickly. And as embarrassing as it was to have to release his zanpakuto to deal with this piece of trash, Ulquiorra was in no mood to waste time; for all he knew, Neliel was being vivisected at this very moment. Giving himself some space by tearing a hole through the _bankai_ monstrosity with a _cero_, the Fourth Espada held his sword out vertically in front of him and spoke.

"Engulf, Pesadilla."

The mask fragment on top of Ulquiorra's head shattered into countless pieces and floated behind him, where they split apart into two groups and melted into black, shadowy wings that affixed themselves to Schiffer's shoulder blades. They seemed ethereal and almost angelic, but within them thrummed an incredibly dark, immense amount of power that spoke of horrendous pain and suffering. As a final touch, the green streaks below his eyes shifted in color, from green to pitch black.

"This is the first time anyone has beheld my true power in this form, Mayuri Kurotsuchi," the Arrancar spoke in a venomous tone as the force of the release blasted his jacket from his body, leaving the brand on his chest visible in the sunlight. As his zanpakuto flared with power and the blade was surrounded by the same black, shadow-like energy, Ulquiorra readied it in his now-healed right arm and prepared to end this sick joke of a duel.

"You should be honored that your eyes have been graced by it," Schiffer continued icily, "but know that it speaks more to your conniving nature than to your skills as a warrior. Perpare to die, Soul Reaper."

The Fourth Espada leapt forward and slammed his sword into the side of Konjiki Ashisogi Jizo. The monster started violently at the contact, writhing like a snared beast. Slowly but surely black tendrils of energy began to run along the length of the creature, both beneath its skin and above it. As they grew in number, every inch of flesh that they covered went as still as death.

"My Pesadilla's ability is a simple one," Schiffer explained as Mayuri could only look on in shock and twisted admiration at such power. "It spreads its energy throughout its prey, and sows the seed of nightmare within the core of its soul while paralyzing the flesh. As the tendrils grow, the clarity of the phantasm sharpens until the victim is left completely helpless. Soon at the mercy of their worst nightmare, the image drives them, inescapably, into madness and destruction. Surely you have begun to feel an inkling of its effects by now, Mayuri Kurotsuchi?"

The Soul Reaper in question clutched his chest as his _bankai_ thrashed one final time and faded away, overwhelmed by power of the nightmare rampaging through its head and assisted by a mercy stroke from Ulquiorra's blade. The same dark tendrils of shadow began to spread over Mayuri, beginning in the center of his abdomen and coursing through his veins as they simultaneously coiled around his body. Kurotsuchi fell to his knees and screamed in a strangled, primal tongue as the shadow dove into his mouth from above and flooded out from behind his eyes in the same soul-shattering instant, engulfing him in darkness and carrying him off to Hell's waiting embrace.

The Fourth Espada stood over the body of his vanquished foe for a moment as the shadows receded, his _resurrecion_ ebbing away and returning the mask fragment to crown Ulquiorra's head. Inclining his head downward slightly as he sheathed his now-sealed zanpakuto, Schiffer took a moment to spit a stream of blackened blood down onto the corpse of his fallen enemy before flashing away with a buzz.

There was someone who needed rescuing.

The green-eyed Arrancar wretched as he felt Mayuri's fatal poison finally take effect, one last mocking parting shot from beyond the grave. Limping down the stairs as all of the injuries he had suffered during the duel decided to come back to life at once, Ulquiorra forced his way through the haze of the pain and finally made it to the bottom of the stairs inside the maniac's laboratory. His gaze fell upon a terrified Soul Reaper with a Lieutenant's insignia on her arm, and Schiffer put his palms out in a gesture of peace.

"Do you have an antidote for this poison, woman?" he asked in a blunt rasp. The Soul Reaper removed a bottle from behind her insignia, holding it glinting in the light.

"Is he dead?" she asked simply, and Ulquiorra nodded. The woman, who the Espada assumed to be the 'Nemu' Kurotsuchi had been referring to, gave a small smile and tossed him the bottle. Schiffer chugged it down and chucked it to the side of the lab, sighing slightly in relief as the medicine spread throughout his body.

"Get out of here."

Nemu responded almost instantaneously to the command, disappearing in a flash-step quick enough to rival Stark's _sonido_. Ulquiorra's sharp eyes scanned the room and widened as they fell upon a ragged, scarred and dirtied figure huddled in the corner of a cage. Racing over to her, the Fourth Espada was almost knocked over as he slammed into the _kyomon_ barrier that Shunsui had set up earlier. As he reeled backwards, the noise of the impact roused Neliel from her sleep and she looked up, first in fear and then in stunned happiness as she recognized who her visitor was. Rising shakily to her feet, the captive Arrancar broke down the _kyomon_ with a touch.

Schiffer blinked a few times and shook his head to clear it, but as soon as he'd gotten his footing again the Espada was almost knocked over by a bone-crushingly strong hug that should have been impossible given Nel's current physical state. Ulquiorra's shock deepened as his shoulder began to feel damp, and he realized that Neliel was weeping mutely. Fearing the worst, the Fourth Espada let the tears ebb away completely before he gently parted their embrace somewhat, raising the green-haired Arrancar's face up by her chin and examining her throat. When he saw no scarring there, Schiffer's expression became puzzled.

"Can you not speak?" he asked as evenly as he could, and Oderschvank nodded sadly. Motioning to Ulquiorra's blade, the Fourth Espada gave it to her and waited anxiously, unsure of what was going through her mind.

Placing the zanpakuto's point against the ground, Neliel carved her explanation for her muteness into the dirt. As he finished reading the characters, Ulquiorra's eyes widened in horror.

"No…" he forced out, but all Nel could do was nod weakly.

_He shattered my Zanpakuto._

The Fourth Espada knew exactly what this trauma meant: Neliel was trapped in her Arrancar form forever, unable to return to the state granted by her _resurrecion_ ever again. Not only had it crippled her in a core, fundamental way, but it had stripped her of her voice. As fatigue and grief cut her legs out from under her, the green-haired Arrancar slumped forward and Ulquiorra braced her against him, sweeping her frighteningly light form up into his arms and sighing as he looked down at the broken Espada.

"It'll be all right, Neliel," he said in as comforting a tone as he could manage before taking them both away from the hellish room in a buzz of _sonido_,

"I promise."

* * *

**A/N:** Man, that was fun to write. Hope you enjoyed it, and that the payoff was satisfactory. And if Ulquiorra seemed a bit OoC at points, it was kind of necessary to both keep the fight from getting really boring and to continue his character growth. By the way, in case you were curious, 'Pesadilla' means 'Nightmare' in Spanish. As always, **please review**!


	19. And Now For The Hard Part

**Disclaimer:** I do not own Bleach, or any of its characters. I do, however, own this story.

**Torn**

**Chapter 19:** And Now For The Hard Part…

* * *

Yoruichi opened her eyes, taking a deep breath to calm herself after the jarring trip into the Espada's mind. A split second later the Captain had to fight the sudden urge to vomit; the place this memory had occurred in smelled worse than the lowest sections of Western Rukongai.

And yet, like in the lowest sections of Rukongai, those who had been unfortunate enough to wind up here had somehow carved out little niches for themselves in the grime and grit and neglect. This tenacious attitude and desire to thrive was the trademark of any successful urchin, and its physical expression was always the same sound: a sound that was approaching ever closer to the golden-eyed Soul Reaper.

Laughter.

The joyful sound that seemed to spite its dank surroundings, that seemed to strike a spark of warmth in even the coldest and grayest of places.

"Did you see the looks on their faces, Grimmjow? I'd be willing to spend two weeks in solitary for that, and I'd do it all over again once I got out!"

Yourichi's heart skipped a beat as she heard the voice that was forced out between moments of mischievous, joyous cackling. It was unmistakably Soi Fon's, but it sounded younger and, most surprisingly, _happy_. In all of the years that she had known her former protégé, Shihoin had never heard Soi Fon sound anything other than plaintive or frustrated.

Even when she had praised her student directly, Yoruichi had only seen the faintest glimmer of a smile cross her face. And yet the figure that was just now coming out of the shadowed hallway was unquestionably Soi Fon, and she had a grin across her face to rival even the Captain's famed feline smile. And if that wasn't enough of a shock, she had her arm around the shoulders of the last person Yoruichi would have ever expected: the Espada, Grimmjow. Except this Grimmjow wasn't an Espada, or even a Hollow: he was a teenager about Soi Fon's age, and decidedly human.

"I don't know if you'd be able to take more than a week in there, Shaolin," Jaegerjaques replied smugly, and the dark-eyed girl's grin quickly turned into a thin line of frustration as the laughter in her eyes became mixed with fire at the challenge.

"Oh?" she asked, a single eyebrow rising with pointed precision. "And why's that? You think I don't have what it takes?"

Grimmjow's blue eyes flashed and he gave a wide grin as he replied.

"I think you'd be clawing at the walls four days in, Shaolin, and begging for the pleasure of my company."

The girl broke away from the casual embrace as if Grimmjow had suddenly dangled a scorpion in front of her face, but amidst all of the shock and denial on her face Yoruichi could tell that the boy had clearly struck a nerve.

"Bullshit," Shaolin shot back gruffly, crossing her arms over her chest with a huff.

"Oh, I'm sorry, did I say four days?" Jaegerjaques said, his voice dropping an octave. "I meant three."

The dark-eyed girl had to struggle to fight back a shiver, and her defiant pose lost its spine in an instant.

"You're insufferable, you know that?" she groused after a moment, and Grimmjow's smile softened into something more genuine.

"Wouldn't be me if I wasn't," he said softly, drawing Shaolin into an actual embrace and letting his smile widen once more as she rested her chin on his shoulder and let her eyes close.

"Grimmjow?" she asked after a moment, her voice sounding hesitant. "If you could get out of here, but you had to leave me behind, would you do it?"

A frown darkened Jaegerjaques' happy expression and his eyebrows furrowed, but he was careful not to let his grip reflect his change in mood.

"Of course not," he answered. "What kind of a question is that?"

Shaolin broke away from the embrace, but kept her hands on Grimmjow's shoulders.

"A stupid one," she answered with a small smile. "C'mon," she finished, walking ahead of the blue-haired teenager and waving for him to follow, "let's go eat some of that gruel they call food in this dump; I'm starving."

Grimmjow shook his head and jogged after Shaolin, convinced that he would never be able to understand her in a million years and having no problem with that whatsoever.

Yoruichi watched the pair go and could only wonder at the absurd plausibility of it, before curiosity swooped in and she began to puzzle over how this was possible. No one was supposed to retain memories from their human lives once becoming a Soul or a Hollow, so what had caused these to resurface? Could it really be something as rare as zanpakuto resonance? Before her train of thought had a chance to progress much further, however, Yoruichi found herself enveloped by blackness. Suddenly feeling like she'd taken a direct hit from Zaraki using _kendo_, she was hurled violently from the vision.

* * *

The spiritual backlash caused by being forced out of another's thoughts so vehemently was enough to not only throw the purple-haired Soul Reaper halfway across the room, but also to send her spiraling down into unconsciousness. Entering the mind of another was delicate work, after all, and being compelled to exit it so rapidly and bluntly was akin to having brain surgery done on you by a hyperactive chimpanzee wielding a crowbar.

Grimmjow, for his part, woke up feeling nothing more than a nagging ache from where Yoruichi had blindsided him earlier. Snatching up his zanpakuto and rising to his feet on slightly shaky legs, the Espada was about to leave the room when his gaze fell upon the knocked-out Captain lying sprawled on the floor like a rag doll. A smile crossed his face as he thought of a plan so crazy it just might work, and Jaegerjaques slung the golden-eyed Soul Reaper over his shoulder like a sack of potatoes before vanishing.

Ichigo's look of exasperated relief upon feeling the last of their group finally approaching was replaced by one of shock as he saw whom Grimmjow had brought along for the ride.

"What're you doing with Yoruichi, Grimmjow?" he asked hesitantly, almost not wanting to know the answer.

"Woman tried to look into my mind," the Espada replied tersely. "Knocked her out cold, so now we got ourselves a hostage."

"Why anyone would want to pry into that _thing_ you call a mind is beyond me," Ulquiorra commented dryly, before Grimmjow turned his now-steely eyes on the Fourth Espada and sneered.

"What happened to you, Ulquiorra?" he shot back. "Tell me you got into a fight with Kyoraku or the Captain-Commander, because otherwise Four is _way_ too high of a rank for you."

"If I didn't have both of my hands full right now, Grimmjow," Schiffer seethed, "one of them would be holding your head."

Before the quarrel could come to blows, a massive wave of reiatsu hit the rebels head-on as every Captain in Soul Society, excluding Unohana and the ones they had fought earlier, materialized in front of them. The shockwave was potent enough to wake up Yoruichi; with a quick maneuver on the part of her captors, however, the Captain felt the white blade of Ichigo's _bankai_ pressing lightly against her neck right as her vision began to clear.

"Sorry, Yoruichi," the orange-haired Soul Reaper apologized in a whisper only she could hear, sounding sincerely remorseful. "I hope you'll forgive me." Turning his attention towards the assembled Captains of Soul Society, Kurosaki raised his voice to a shout.

"I know you're probably thinking about blasting right through Yoruichi to get to me, Captain-Commander," he called out, staring the ancient man down, "but I would really advise you against doing that."

"And why would the words of a coward and a traitor such as yourself ever be heeded by my ears, boy?" Yamamoto growled out, and Ichigo frowned as frustration began to bleed into his voice.

"The Second Division Captain is already in the Human World, and could be struck down by an Arrancar incursion tomorrow for all you know. Kill Yoruichi now, and you would have no one to fall back on. The SMC would rebel and you would lose your eyes and ears, not to mention," the Soul Reaper finished in an acidic voice as he dropped the hammer, " that Kisuke Urahara would be very, very loathe to take up the now-vacant mantle of Twelfth Division Captain if he finds out you melted his former superior officer and best friend to a crisp."

Yamamoto's eyes opened before narrowing to slivers of molten hatred, but in the end it was he who budged and gave the signal for the rest of the Captains to back away. Ichigo nodded to Hichigo, who opened a _garganta_ with a wave of his hand.

"I'll let her go as soon as this thing is sealed," Kurosaki said as the six stepped into the gaping void. "Sorry, but I don't exactly trust you not to blast us all to oblivion the moment I let Yoruichi free."

The Captain-Commander glared daggers at Ichigo, but made no effort to stop him. As the rift closed shut with a whine, the brown-eyed Soul Reaper lowered his blade from Yoruichi's throat with a sigh.

"I'll say this much, Ichigo," the Captain commented as she brushed her shoulders off, "you're the only person outside of Unohana who I've ever seen make that old codger flinch."

"No hard feelings, I hope?" Kurosaki asked, and Shihoin shook her head.

"Believe me, Ichigo," she replied, "I know what desperation can do to someone. Now get out of here before I change my mind and knock your teeth out," Yoruichi finished, her eyes gleaming once more with their familiar mischief. Ichigo nodded solemnly and the five rebels vanished, presumably journeying towards the Human World. Shihion focused and tore open another _garganta_, finding herself back in Soul Society but faced with a rather unlikely sight.

Her own troops, looking decidedly hostile.

"Arrest her!" Yamamoto's voice boomed out. "Yourichi Shihoin is known to have disregarded the rules and laws of Soul Society before, and until we know beyond a shadow of a doubt that she was not a player in this escape attempt, she is to be detained in the Maggot's Nest."

"What?!" The indignant Captain shouted as she was put into an unnecessarily strong full-nelson by the people who had supposedly sworn allegiance to her above all others. "With all due respect, Sir," she protested straining to keep from snarling, "are you fucking joking?!"

"Bite your tongue, or I will burn it off!" the Captain-Commander barked. Canvassing the faces of her fellow Soul Reapers for support, Yoruichi was at least somewhat relieved to see that at least Ukitake, Kyoraku, Unohana and surprisingly Byakuya seemed to doubt the Captain-Commander's sentiment.

Hopefully they had a serious amount of pull with Yamamoto, or things were looking bleak indeed.

* * *

The four conscious rebels and their unconscious comrade touched down onto the soil of the Human World looking like survivors of a volcano eruption. Torn up, bleeding, exhausted wounded and filthy, the last thing any of them wanted was to talk to anyone, let alone someone of a gratingly cheerful, borderline-mocking disposition.

Which is exactly why fate chose to make the place they materialized in be about 50 yards away from the Urahara Shop.

"Hello again, Kurosaki-san!" Kisuke's voice floated over to them, upbeat as ever. "I guess I should up your tally of 'Successful Soul Society Invasions' to two, no?"

Ichigo shot the former Captain a weary death-glare before falling over, the exertion of the day's events finally bearing down on him. Urahara fanned himself to cover a sly smile, and motioned to Tessia, Ururu and Jinta.

"Get them inside, and start patching them up," Kisuke ordered. "I'm sure they have quite the story to tell."

* * *

Ichigo awoke what felt like a few hours later with a groan, and tried to get up from his prone position until a strong pair of hands grabbed hold of his shoulders and forced him back down. Blinking a few times, Kurosaki saw that the person currently keeping him prostrate was Neliel, who was glaring down at him like his mother after she'd told him for the third time to clean his room already. It looked as though all of her wounds had healed, and Ichigo's brown eyes lit up with hope.

"Nel," he said, his voice slightly strained, "you're…"

The Arrancar cut him off with a sad shake of her head, though, before letting up on Kurosaki's shoulders.

"That scum Kurotsuchi shattered her zanpakuto," Ulquiorra supplied from the other side of the room, sporting a thick swath of bandages over his wounded, still-healing shoulder. "She can't speak, Ichigo."

The hope in Kurosaki's eyes promptly dimmed, replaced by shock, anger and pity.

"Did you kill him, Ulquiorra?"

"Yes," the Fourth Espada replied evenly, "and he suffered before the end."

"Okay, okay," Kisuke's voice broke in, "enough of this gray talk for today. I have some good news; I made each of you _gigai_! Except for Kurosaki-san, of course," the shopkeeper added, "because he doesn't need one… yet."

Ignoring the jab at the end of the sentence, Ichigo began to try and gather reiatsu from his surroundings to heal himself as he replied.

"What good will those do us?" he asked, and it was Grimmjow who answered him.

"You don't honestly think we're going back to Hueco Mundo, do you, Ichigo? Until we figure out where we stand in this whole mess, we'll be laying low here for a while."

"Precisely!" Urahara exclaimed, and to the surprise of everyone present it was Neliel who shut him up with an elbow to the face and an exasperated frown.

"To be struck down by one so beautiful…" Kisuke gasped as blood poured from his nose, missing the pointedly murderous glance Ulquiorra gave him in that moment, "I go gladly…"

"What I wanna know is why this joker's helping us," Jaegerjaques finished, and Kisuke sprang back up as if Nel had never knocked him over.

"A few reasons," Grimmjow-kun," he answered, ignoring the growl that issued from Jeagerjaques' throat at the diminutive address. "First, I wanted to see if I could make untraceable, functional _gigai_ for Arrancar in the same way I did for the Vizards. Secondly," he finished as his tone turned decidedly darker, "I feel like a little rebellion is mandatory after what the Captain Commander pulled immediately following your escape."

Urahara explained the situation after a prompt from Ichigo, and Kurosaki was immediately apologetic.

"Urahara-san," he said frantically while Nel shook her head in despair as she watched Ichigo opened up cut after cut with his thrashing, "believe me when I tell you I had no intention of…"

"I know, Kurosaki-san," the former Captain cut him off seriously, "I know. Rest assured that your lack of ill-intent is the only reason why any of you are still alive. The _gigai_ I crafted for you should allow your comrades to access the full range of their Hollow powers and still retain a human appearance; the only glitch is with the functionality of the _hierro_. As of right now it doesn't work, but I will fix that as soon as I can."

"What are you going to do about Yoruichi?" the brown-eyed Soul Reaper asked, and Urahara gave a vicious smile.

"You worry about yourselves, Ichigo," he answered. "I'll worry about Yoruichi."

Without another word, the former Captain vanished and left the rebels by themselves.

"So…" Hichigo eventually broached into the silence, "what do we do now?"

Everyone was silent for a moment, until Ichigo shrugged and spoke.

"How would you guys feel about slumming it as High-Schoolers for a while?"

Ulquiorra's impassive eyes widened slightly, incredulous.

"You can't be serious." He interjected, his voice struggling to remain even.

"Fuck no!" This from Grimmjow and Hichigo, while Neliel's mouth simply dropped slightly open in a mixture of shock and fear. Ichigo sighed, running his hands wearily through his hair.

"Well, guys," he parried, "it's either that, or get real jobs."

The change in the atmosphere was instantaneous.

"It could be worse…" Ulquiorra grudgingly admitted.

"Sold!" Grimmjow and Hichigo chorused, willing to do anything to keep the specter of a nine-to-five job at bay. Neliel just shrugged plaintively, willing to try it but not overjoyed by any means.

"Trust me," Ichigo commiserated, "the last place I want to be right now is High School. But hey, at least it's not permanent, right?"

"It had better not be," Grimmjow threatened with a crack of his bandaged knuckles, "or your spine is going to be missing a few vertebrae real soon."

Kurosaki swallowed hard to hide his fear at the seriousness of the threat, and could only hope that no one from the Human World expedition team was currently undercover at Karakura High to spare him any further friendly fire.

* * *

**A/N: **Just to give you guys a heads-up, this change of setting is my way of slowing down the action and putting the main plot on a side burner so that I can deal with a ton of character development in this upcoming arc, while the plot continues to brew in the background. I hope you enjoyed this chapter, and as always, **please review**!


	20. Settling In

Disclaimer: I do not own Bleach, or any of its characters. Tite Kubo does. This story, however, is mine.

**Torn**

**Chapter 20:** Settling In

* * *

"Wait, you actually found an apartment for us to live in, Shiro?"

The Hollow scoffed as he climbed to the top of the staircase.

"Of course I did, Grimmjow; where did you think I was taking you guys? And stop calling me 'Shiro', damn it! That's not my name!"

"It is according to your official ID," Ulquiorra volunteered with the slightest of smirks, and Hichigo snarled.

"I'm going to track down that hat-and-sandal wearing bastard, and I am going to make him feel pain…"

"Let's worry about getting dinner before we go off on any vendettas," Grimmjow said. "I'm starving."

Dinner was procured and devoured in short order, and the group of exiles began adjusting to what life would be like here in the Human World.

"I'm glad we still have two weeks before school starts up again," Jaegerjaques spoke with a sigh as he sprawled out on the couch. "My arm's still mending in two places after my fight back in Soul Society."

"At least you have both arms," Schiffer groused from his armchair while he wrestled with a Rubik's Cube. "A chunk of my shoulder still needs to finish growing back from where that bastard Mayuri melted it off."

"Bah, you guys're a bunch of whiners," Hichigo broke in as he collapsed onto a beanbag chair.

"Easy for you to say, jackass," Grimmjow shot back. "Someone had already healed your wounds when I saw you before we escaped."

The Hollow and the Arrancar got into a fierce staring contest, and the silence in the room was only broken by a sudden knock on the door.

"Yo," Ichigo's voice called out, "can I come in?"

"No," Jaegerjaques called back, and a chuckle floated from the other side of the door.

"I brought groceries with me…"

Three seconds later, a smiling Grimmjow was opening the door.

"Well, why didn'tcha say so?" he asked, in a tone that managed to be cheerful and creepy at the same time. As soon as Ichigo had taken a step forward, Hichigo appeared in front of him with a flash, snatched the bags of groceries and Grimmjow promptly slammed the door in Kurosaki's face.

"Nicely done," the blue-eyed Espada said to the pale Hollow with a smirk, their previous argument forgotten as if it had never happened. Neliel rolled her eyes and disappeared with a buzz of sonido, reappearing right by the door as soon as the two hyenas had backed away and opening it up again.

"Thank you, Nel," Ichigo said pleasantly, before fixing Hichigo and Grimmjow with a withering glare that was promptly laughed off. "It's nice to know someone here is at least civilized. I also brought you guys these," Kurosaki finished, holding up four letters. "Your schedules for the upcoming term."

"Please excuse me while I overflow with joy and eagerness," Ulquiorra quipped dryly, and everyone stopped to look at him. Noticing the shift in attention, Schiffer raised an eyebrow.

"What?"

Everyone was still slightly shocked from the fact that Ulquiorra had just made a joke, but they shrugged it off and continued as if Ichigo had never been interrupted.

"Doesn't look too bad, actually," Hichigo commented as he looked over his classes. "This could be—wait a minute…" he qualified, as his yellow eyes scanned over the name of his homeroom teacher. "Oh, you've gotta be kidding…"

"What's up?" Grimmjow asked with a growl, pissed that he was in an Art class. If this was Ichigo's idea of a joke, he was going to break the carrot top's jaw in ten places.

"My homeroom teacher is Kaien Shiba. What the fuck is he doing here?"

A quick check by the rest of the crew revealed that they were all in the same homeroom, and that homeroom was under the watchful eye of Kaien Shiba while the regular teacher, Misato Ochi, was on sabbatical.

"Well, that's awesome," Grimmjow said as his frown deepened and darkened. "The last thing I want is to have to worry about being purified by a zanpakuto during a math test. This is bullshit."

"I'm sure it'll be fine," Ichigo insisted, before having to sidestep a _bala_ that had been shot at his head. "Something tells me the Soul Reapers here will see us more as allies than as enemies, when push comes to shove. After all, we aren't allied with Aizen anymore, and they're gonna need all the help they can get."

Before anyone could argue the point any further, there was another knock on the door and a voice called out from the other side of the barrier that the pizza had arrived.

Ichigo bowed out of the meal early, claiming that he had to go continue his argument with Rukia over her moving out of his bed and back into his closet. Hichigo made a snide comment about the real reason Kurosaki wanted to stay separated from Kuchiki, which was cheered by Grimmjow and fervently denied by Ichigo as he walked out the door, face red. Conversation was sparse throughout the rest of the meal, and soon enough it was time to call it a night.

"Grimmjow'n I call that room," Hichigo announced as he pointed of to one of the two bedrooms, nursing the end of a beer. "You two can have that other one," the Hollow finished, addressing Ulquiorra and Nel with a slightly sly edge to his voice. Schiffer shot him a sidelong glance and the pale Hollow just smirked, vanishing with a flash.

* * *

Late that night, the former Fourth Espada woke up and felt that something was off. Looking over he saw that Neliel's bed was empty, and the soft noise of the television could be heard floating over from the main room. Sighing, Ulquiorra got out of bed and shuffled out of the room, grabbing his Rubik's Cube on the way. Sure enough, the soft light of the TV illuminated an otherwise dark room, and a head of green hair was just visible over the back of the couch. Walking over, Schiffer sat down next to Neliel, who seemed to make a point of ignoring everything outside of what she was watching.

"Couldn't sleep?"

She shook her head shortly, but made no other gestures and wrote nothing down in her notebook. Sighing in barely-controlled frustration, Ulquiorra began to struggle once again with the diabolic Cube that just refused to be solved. After a few moments of silence between the two, broken only by the grinding of the puzzle and the occasional burst of noise from the TV, Ulquiorra felt pressure on his shoulder. Looking over, he saw that Nel was tapping insistently on his shoulder and pointing at the Cube.

"You think you can solve it?" he asked, his tone clipped with frustration. "It's impossible; don't waste your time."

Neliel rolled her eyes, exasperated, and beckoned with her free hand for the puzzle. Schiffer realized he had an opening, and locked eyes with his companion.

"I'll let you have this," he said, "but in exchange I want to know what's bothering you."

The green-haired Arrancar seemed to be weighing her options for a moment, torn between not wanting to talk about whatever was eating at her and wanting to stop Ulquiorra from struggling with the Cube and making so much noise. After a few heartbeats, Neliel sighed and snatched the puzzle from Schiffer's hands, looking at it in the dim light of the television and planning out how to solve it in her head. After a few moments she began to twist and turn its sections decisively, finishing in a minute what Ulquiorra had been struggling with for hours. She handed the completed puzzle back to him and smiled at the look of astonishment on his face, before the look faded as his green eyes locked on her pale golden ones.

"So?" he asked expectantly, and Nel sighed as she pulled out her notebook and scratched out something almost angrily before handing it to Ulquiorra.

_Nightmares._

Schiffer read the word a few times before looking up and regarding Neliel with a raised eyebrow.

"And you are ashamed of these nightmares?"

Nel took the notebook back and scribbled out a sentence, before half-shoving it back into Ulquiorra's hands.

_Who wouldn't be? This fear is a sign of weakness._

The green-eyed Espada sighed, trying to form words to express something that resided in the core of his being.

"This has nothing to do with weakness, Neliel," he began. "I should know; nightmares are as much a part of me as breathing in and out. Do you know why the ability of my resurrecion is so lethal?"

The female Arrancar shook her head, and Ulquiorra continued.

"Because when those who I have struck are confronted with their worst nightmare, they are presented with a choice. On one hand, they can crumble and give in, letting their fear swallow them whole and drive their mind and soul into madness and destruction.

"On the other hand, they can try to fight it, to overcome their fear and break out of my Pesadilla's hold. There is only one person I have ever seen who had the strength to potentially break that hold, Nel. Do you know who that was?"

She gave Ulquiorra a questioning glance, and he just raised a single, elegant forefinger to point at her.

"You, Neliel. And don't scoff at me like that, it's unbecoming."

The green-haired Arrancar scribbled down a sentence in her notebook and passed it to him.

_That strength broke with my zanpakuto._

"No, it didn't," Ulquiorra parried. "You told me in that letter you wrote me right before Nnoitra attacked you that I had the strength necessary to carve out my own path, remember? To choose a fate different from the one that Aizen would have handed down to me like a dog begging for scraps at the table?

"You have that same strength within you, Neliel," he finished, putting one hand over her heart. "I can feel it. So why are you letting this phantom memory of someone I killed destroy you? Promise me you'll move on, and I'll help you in whatever way I can."

The female Arrancar was silent for several moments, her eyes unreadable as she seemed to struggle with herself over what to do. Ulquiorra didn't so much as twitch, waiting with perfect stillness and feeling the increasingly rapid beating of Nel's heart as the moments passed. Suddenly it was like a stone rolled off of her heart and the Espada's mouth curled up into a small, but radiant smile as she leaned forward and placed a gentle kiss against Ulquiorra's lips, breaking apart before he had the chance to reciprocate.

Schiffer did not give a smile of his own, but his eyes softened in a way they hadn't since he'd become an Arrancar. Turning off the television, he took Neliel into his arms and laid down on the couch, holding her against him protectively and resting his chin on her shoulder as his eyes closed. The green-haired Arrancar sighed contentedly as she let herself drift off to a sleep she knew would be free of nightmares, opening her mouth one last time before consciousness was lost to her completely and speaking a single phrase.

"Thank you."

Ulquiorra said nothing, but the corners of his mouth twitched up the tiniest bit.

* * *

**A/N:** Yeah, so the High School bits didn't start exactly with this chapter, but they will next chapter, for sure; I'm going to crunch the rest of the two-week gap down with the help of some handy exposition. Hope you enjoyed this installment nonetheless, however, and as always, **please review!**


	21. Welcome To The Jungle

**Disclaimer:** I don't own Bleach, or any of its characters. Tite Kubo does. This story, however, is mine.

**Torn**

**Chapter 21: **Welcome to the Jungle

* * *

Needless to say, the arrival of so many odd-seeming people on the first day of school, coupled by the whispers about a new substitute teacher, had the students of Ichigo and company's homeroom class in quite an uproar.

Keigo, for one, couldn't keep himself from making multiple passes at Neliel, despite the fact that she was using her newly-regained voice to politely tell him off every single time. Eventually she noticed Ulquiorra beginning to carve ridges into his desk with his fingers as his fist slowly clenched closed in anger, and Nel decided to knock Keigo out cold in order to save him the pain of being thrown halfway through a wall by the green-eyed Arrancar.

But that's not to say that Ulquiorra wasn't being given some unwanted attention of his own; every counter-culture, heavily-eyelinered girl who insisted on being called some kind of bird instead of her actual name was fawning over Schiffer, and for the life of him Ulquiorra couldn't figure out why.

"So… Ulquiorra's your name, right?" one particularly bold girl asked, and Schiffer raised an eyebrow before replying icily.

"I don't recall ever giving you permission to refer to me by my first name, woman."

"Ohmigod, that's so enigmatic and mysterious!" the student rebounded, the point completely lost on her as Ulquiorra's face darkened and Grimmjow just snickered as he looked on, wanting to see where this went.

"So, what should I call you instead, then?"

"Why don't you keep it a mystery and never speak to me again?" Schiffer finally snapped, and the girl all but swooned on the spot.

"I do so love the strong, inwardly-vulnerable-but-outwardly-cold types. Have it your way, then," she finished coquettishly, "but one day you'll come crawling to me!"

"I doubt it somehow," Ulquiorra half-growled, and Grimmjow saw his moment to pounce.

"Here's his phone number," the blue-eyed Arrancar whispered wickedly as the stalker strutted by, and she took the scrap of paper with something bordering on reverence. Ulquiorra noticed the look in Jaegerjaques' eyes and frowned.

"I know that look," he said as evenly as he could over the knot of dread in his stomach, "and I don't like it. What did you do, Grimmjow?"

"Oh, nothin'," the blue-haired Arrancar shot back with a mischievous gleam in his eye, almost daring Schiffer to attack him. But not wanting to incur disciplinary wrath on the first day, Ulquiorra bit his tongue and stayed in his seat.

Hichigo, or Shiro as he was now known to his great displeasure, was also the object of curious fascination.

"So, um… what's up with your… everything?" a painfully blunt student asked, and the Hollow fixed him with a remarkably restrained death-glare.

"It's a pigmentation irregularity," he snarled. "You gotta problem with that, asshole?"

The questioner scattered to the four winds, and as Shiro settled into his seat with a sigh the door to the room swung open to reveal a man who looked remarkably like Ichigo. Striding into the room, he gazed over the faces of the class for the first time. Having been warned by Rukia about the presence of the Arrancar rebels in the class, he took the sight of so many strange-looking people in with remarkable calm.

"Hello, class," he said easily but with poise, slipping effortlessly back into his Lieutenant persona. "My name is Kaien Shiba, and I'll be your teacher while Ms. Ochi is on sabbatical."

A high wolf-whistle sounded in the back of the room, and Kaien's brow furrowed slightly.

"I'll ask you to keep those comments to yourself from now on," he said. "I know I'm impossible to resist, but I'm not trying to lose this job. Besides, I'm way too old for any of you; trust me."

Rukia rolled her eyes and scoffed at her teacher's behavior, but Kaien just slipped her a barely-noticeable smirk before returning his attention to the class.

"Anyways, let's stop wasting time and get things rolling. Pull out your drawing pads: it's time for a little icebreaker!"

There was an almost universal groan in the room at the notion of an icebreaker, but the instruction was nonetheless followed as the rustling noise of backpacks soon filled the room.

"Okay, so here's the deal," Shiba explained. "I want each of you to draw something that explains who you are in a nutshell. I know we've all heard that 'a picture's worth a thousand words', but now we're gonna prove it. Get started; you have ten minutes!"

The scratching noise of pencil on paper in the room began as timid at best, with most of the students staring off into the distance as they brainstormed. Shiro, however, found his wandering eye caught by a rather strange sight, and he found that he couldn't look away as his pencil-hand began moving on its own.

Orihime Inoue, the girl he knew to be nothing more than an airhead with a phenomenal rack, was thinking of something. And whatever it was, it produced a huge change in her: gone was the buffoonish, ditzy expression with the over-eager, puppy-dog eyes. She seemed to be years older in that moment as the sun framed her burnt-orange hair and cast an illuminating light on her face, with the girl reaching back to relive a memory that brought with it equal parts bittersweet pleasure, pain, and resolve.

"Oi, Orihime?"

As Inoue turned to face Tatsuki, who had called out to her, the spell was broken and the airhead Orihime everyone knew and loved was back in place. But for a brief moment the Hollow had seen someone else, and it intrigued him.

"You're hiding something…" he said half-to-himself, before looking down and realizing that his pencil hand had been unconsciously sketching Inoue the entire time she'd been meditating.

The drawing was remarkably good considering that it had been done blind and with one hand, but Shiro knew he couldn't show this to anyone, for a number of reasons. Scribbling the quick title of 'When Nobody's Looking' on the bottom of the page, the Hollow used his remaining five minutes and considerable talent to etch out a very violent and graphic drawing, grinning like a maniac as he did so.

"Okay, time's up!" Kaien called out as ten minutes came to a close. "Who wants to share with us first?"

"I will!" Orihime chirped happily, and the yellow-eyed Hollow wanted to snap something's neck at the sound. Inoue practically skipped up to the front of the class and pulled out her drawing pad, flipping over one page before presenting her drawing to the class.

"What the fuck…?" Shiro mumbled in shock as the rest of the class laughed at the picture of sweet red bean paste drizzled over vanilla ice cream and topped with something green.

"And this is… what, exactly?" Kaien asked with a raised eyebrow, which prompted Orihime into a long explanation of just what went into her favorite dessert. By the time she was done, the pale Hollow was just short of flabbergasted. There was no way that she'd actually been thinking of _that_ ridiculous piece of shit…

Then he remembered that she had flipped over a page before showing the class her drawing, and it made sense. Somehow, he was going to find out what Inoue had drawn on that first page. Not once did Shiro wonder why he was so curious; it was just like an itch that instinctively needed to be scratched.

"Who wants to go next?"

Wanting to get this farce over with as quickly as possible, Shiro raised his hand up high and was called on, having beaten out Ulquiorra by a half a second. Walking confidently up to the front of the class, the Hollow deftly disguised his flipping over of the incriminating page featuring Orihime and proudly displayed his second drawing to the class, provoking many groans of disgust and one 'Awesome!' from the class' resident weird kid.

"And this is… a picture of you eating a baby?" Shiba asked in stunned disbelief. "Why…?"

"Because it's what I do in my spare time," Shiro shot back cockily, before returning to his seat and plopping down with a sigh. He was so concerned with not focusing on anything in particular that he missed the critical glance Orihime gave him for a few heartbeats before returning to normal, the same thoughts running through her head that had been running through the Hollow's not two minutes before.

Right before Kaien called out the next presenter, a red flag went up in the heads of all of the spiritually-aware people in the room as a Hollow's reiatsu could be sensed not too far off. And not just any hollow, either: this was an Arrancar, and a powerful one at that. Before Ulquiorra could even get up to flee the classroom Grimmjow was already racing out the door, shooting a glance back over his shoulder to warn his comrades and the Soul Reapers not to get in his way.

* * *

The blue-eyed Espada willed himself out of his _gigai_ and shoved it into his locker, not worrying about the discomfort he'd experience stepping back into it later as he vanished with a buzz. Once he was on the streets Grimmjow tore along them like a man possessed, glad that he was finally going to be able to fight someone for the first time in a while who wouldn't sucker-punch him like that damn purple-haired Captain had.

When he finally reached his target, Grimmjow had to fight not to roll his eyes in exasperation.

"Oh, god damn it," he growled. "It's _you_?"

"Your arrogance is as appalling as ever, Grimmjow Jaegerjaques," Zommari Leroux intoned gravely as he stood in front of a stop sign. "Clearly, your exile has taught you no humility."

Jaegerjaques was about to retort when another reiatsu joined them, and a smile spread across his face. If there was one person he didn't mind fighting alongside, it was…

"Fancy seeing you here, Shaolin."

Soi Fon shot Grimmjow a glare that only made his smile wider, before looking over the face of their opponent.

"Mind telling me who this joker is, Grimmjow?" she snapped, and Leroux adopted an affronted posture.

"I see your keeper shares your lack of manners, Grimmjow," the Seventh Espada commented. "After all, that is what you are now, is it not? The Soul Reaper's pet?"

"You may be Aizen's dog, but I'm no one's pet," Jaegerjaques snarled before vanishing, appearing behind Zommari with his sword resting at the Espada's throat.

"You think that will ensnare me, Grimmjow?" Jaegerjaques heard from behind him, and he had to use _sonido_ once again to avoid getting skewered by the blade that struck from behind him.

"Since when did you get so fast?" he asked sharply, and Leroux just shrugged his shoulders.

"My _Gemelos Sonido_ has always been this fast," he said. "I simply had no desire to challenge low-born filth such as yourself for the right to a promotion, knowing that Aizen-sama would deign to acknowledge my greatness in time. And he has," Zommari finished, closing his eyes to reveal a '6' tattooed onto his right eyelid.

"Didn't anyone ever tell you not to take your eyes off of your opponent?" Soi Fon taunted, flashing forward and delivering a crushing knee to Leroux's face that sent him flying backwards.

"Good one," Grimmjow said with an appreciative whistle. "Looks like you haven't forgotten all of our lessons, grasshopper."

"Shut up and fight, Grimmjow," the Captain spat and ran forward, but with a twinkle in her eye as she did so. Right before the pair could reach their target, however, four more copies of the newly christened Sixth Espada appeared in front of them, with two engaging each of the warriors.

"There is no shame in being overwhelmed and crushed by the might of my _Gemelos Sonido_, insects such as you are."

Soi Fon and Grimmjow sliced through the doppelgangers with ease, but as Jaegerjaques looked up towards the puppet-master he could see why Zommari had staged his little diversion: to give himself time to release his _resurrecion_.

"Quash… Brujeria!"

Soi Fon could only stare in bizarre fascination as Leroux's sword hovered out in front of him and his head slowly tilted sideways on his neck, her eyes narrowing in revulsion as his head became completely perpendicular.

"Is he… did he just… what the _fuck_?"

"I know; just… try not to think about it too much," Grimmjow advised, before getting serious as the white stuff that enveloped Zommari during his _resurrecion_'s release began to fall away.

"Listen, Shaolin," he said, "when that bastard finishes transforming, he's going to have a ton of eyes all over his body. If you see one of them light up, get out of the way as fast as you can."

"What?" the Soul Reaper asked sharply as she tried to prepare herself for whatever was about to emerge, not understanding the gravity of Grimmjow's words.

"Just stay away from his goddamn eyes!" Jaegerjaques snarled, worry putting him further on edge than he would normally be against this freak; if Zommari did anything to Shaolin with those screwy powers of his, there was going to be hell to pay and then some.

As Soi Fon saw what Grimmjow was talking about, her eyes went wide in shock.

"I don't think it'll be possible to avoid those if I want to land a hit on him, Grimmjow," she said, but Grimmjow had already sprung forward to attack.

"So, the feral cat strikes first," Leroux mused, raising his hand up palm-out. "Why am I not surprised?"

The blue-eyed Arrancar dove out of the way of the eye in the hand as it pulsed, before quickly checking behind him to see if Soi Fon had been tagged by the ability.

"Concern? From you?" Zommari taunted, appearing in front of Jaegerjaques as he sprung to his feet. "I did not think you had become so weak, Grimmjow. Let my _Amor_ remind you what strength is."

Before he could blink, Jaegerjaques felt himself slide into unconsciousness as Brujeria's ability took away his sovereignty over his entire body, leaving a black sun marking on his forehead as it did so.

"Grimmjow!"

The new Sixth Espada heard the Soul Reaper's cry of alarm and turned, a mocking smile on his usually placid face.

"It appears that he cares for you, woman," Leroux spoke as the eye that had robbed Grimmjow of his free will flared and Jaegerjaques lurched forward like a marionette. "Let us see how he feels when I release him from my hold and he discovers his sword buried in your dying body."

Soi Fon set her mouth in a hard line and grit her teeth, every muscle in her body gnawing and gnashing against her restraint to spring forward and unleash painful retribution.

"If you kill him, I will make you suffer agony so great your mind will scarcely be able to comprehend it," she swore, and Zommari just smiled again.

"Me?" he asked with mock surprise. "Me? I'm not going to do anything to him. Unless you want to die, woman," he finished as he forced Grimmjow to raise his sword and dash forward, a sickeningly blank look in his blue eyes,

"_You_ are going to be the one who kills him."

* * *

**A/N:** So, thus the new arc begins in earnest, and already things have gotten bad for our heroes. Will Grimmjow survive Zommari's _Amor_? Will Soi Fon be forced to kill him, with their history still shrouded in mystery? Will Hichigo/Shiro ever figure out what's up with Orihime, and vice-versa? Find out in the coming chapters of "Torn"! Oh, and as always, I hope you enjoyed this chapter and **please review**!


	22. Blackheart

**Disclaimer: **I do not own Bleach; Tite Kubo does. I do, however, own this story.

**Torn**

**Chapter 22:** Blackheart

* * *

Soi Fon did not usually feel emotion during battle; the years of grueling SMC training had all but ground that potential weakness out of her. As she traded blows with a brainwashed Grimmjow, however, the Soul Reaper felt her strikes alternately stiffen and slacken as apprehension and desperation ripped her normally steely resolve to pieces.

"Damn it, Grimmjow!" she cursed as another hard attack crashed against her zanpakuto. "I don't want to have to break your arms, but if you don't stop this I'll have no other choice!"

"You will have to break every bone in his body if you want the onslaught to cease," Zommari taunted. "I do not care what condition his body is in; if it can strike, I will make it strike."

"Shut up!" The Captain growled, trying to force the puppet-master Espada from her head and focus on the battle at hand. As Jaegerjaques' blade bit deep into her shoulder, Soi Fon realized that she was going to have to go on the offensive or face the possibility of being worn down and killed outright.

"_Shunko!_"

She didn't want to risk killing Grimmjow with Suzumebachi, so Soi Fon would have to settle for the blunt force trauma of _shunko_. Hopefully, Yoruichi-sama's signature attack would succeed in knocking the former Espada out cold without killing him.

"I was wondering how long it would take you to unleash one of your abilities," Leroux's even voice floated over again. "Very well; allow me to even the score."

Grimmjow's hand jerked up and rested on his zanpakuto, which began to glow blue as he focused and spoke.

"Grind…"

Before Jaegerjaques could finish the words, Soi Fon struck out instinctively and bruised the blue-eyed Arrancar's windpipe; this rendered him temporarily mute, but despite the necessity of the attack regret shone deeply in her expression.

"Ah, so I see you are not without ingenuity," The Sixth Espada commented with a sliver of a compliment in his voice. "Still, there are other weapons this feral possesses that do not require his voice. Allow me to demonstrate, Soul Reaper."

A condensed, swift and lethal sphere of red energy screamed towards Soi Fon's head as Grimmjow shot off a single _bala_. She rolled quickly to the side and dodged it, only to find herself face-to-face with her opponent when she rose back up to her feet. Making sure not to put her full strength behind her punches and kicks, Soi Fon used the explosive power of her _shunko_ to drive Grimmjow backwards without wounding him fatally.

Unfortunately, her opponent was not fighting with such restraint in mind. Jaegerjaques moved with a surprising amount of ferocity considering the nature of his attacks, and each strike carried his full strength behind it. Soi Fon bit back a curse as she came to terms with what had to be done, knowing that she had to incapacitate Grimmjow entirely if she wanted to be able to focus on fighting the Espada instead and ending this sick, twisted battle for good.

Reaching out and intercepting the blue-eyed Arrancar's latest punch, Soi Fon poured the chaotic energy of _shunko_ into Grimmjow's arm and let it do the rest, completely shattering the bone with force that would have blown the arm itself to kingdom come if the Captain hadn't been holding back. The only sign that Grimmjow felt anything was a slight narrowing of his eyes for a brief moment; a lack of emotion that made Soi Fon's anger spike even higher. Letting wrath at the domineering, multi-eyed Espada fuel her attacks, the warrior made short work of her opponent's three remaining limbs. After sparing a short, sorrowful glance down at Jaegerjaques' prone, broken body, Soi Fon turned her smoldering onyx gaze on a smiling Zommari.

"I did not think you could be so ruthless towards someone willing to so selflessly sacrifice himself for your protection, Captain," the Sixth Espada taunted. "Clearly, your reputation as a frigid blackheart is not wrongfully earned."

The words stung Soi Fon deeply, but rather than let her rage make her careless, the Captain used it to focus herself even more sharply. The wild, crackling energy of the _shunko_ surrounding her condensed further and further until it covered her arms and legs like armor forged from terrifyingly potent and barely-restrained white lightning. Vanishing with a flash-step so fast it created a localized sonic boom in her wake, Soi Fon called out her _shikai_ without the command and slammed the point of Suzumebachi into Leroux's back. She smirked with satisfaction as a black _homonka_ spread over his skin at the point of impact, but before she could complete her technique with a second jab the Espada disappeared with a buzz.

Feeling his reiatsu emerge behind her, Soi Fon struck out with her leg. The fluid movement sent a bolt of raw _kido_ energy hurling towards the Arrancar and disrupted his attack, allowing the Captain to remain on the offensive. She made sure to move constantly and erratically in order to minimize the threat of Zommari's many eyes, but always kept her focus trained on the spot specified by the black butterfly marking that contrasted sharply against white flesh. Just as she was about to erase this bastard once and for all, though, Leroux delivered a vicious backhand slap right to her face and sent Soi Fon tumbling through the air. Righting herself sharply in mid-flight, the Captain threw her hands out in front of her and spoke harshly.

"_Bakudo number 30: Shitotsu Sansen_!"

The three beams of energy lanced forward with a shriek and slammed into their hapless, now-panicking prey.

"What is this devilry?" the Arrancar snarled as he was pinned into a nearby wall and held there, thrashing in his bindings for a few moments in vain before Soi Fon flashed in front of him, intent on ending this infuriating brawl once and for all.

"The last thing you'll ever see, you bastard," she hissed, jabbing the point of her _shikai_ viciously into her opponent's chest. Suzumebachi didn't strike the same superficial point twice, but that didn't matter: as the zanpakuto made contact with the same part of Zommari's lung that her initial attack had wounded, the Espada vanished into thin air with a disgraceful scream. After Soi Fon had spat a stream of dark blood onto the spot her enemy had occupied in a show of blatant disrespect for the departed, she turned keenly anxious eyes to face Grimmjow as his sprawled-out form was dragged back to consciousness. After a few moments, he lifted his head up as high as he could in his face-down position and gave Soi Fon a surprisingly even stare.

"What happened to me, Shaolin?" he half-rasped though his still-healing windpipe, and the Captain was suddenly seized with the impulse to laugh with childish glee as she realized that Grimmjow was all right. He was free from that lunatic's control, he wasn't dead and after a few days of rest, he would be as good as new.

"Trust me, Grimmjow," she said as seriously as she could through the crushing waves of relief, "you don't want to know."

"I can't feel my—_anything_, Shaolin. Really, what happened?"

The Captain scooped up her weakened comrade into her arms and told him what had transpired during the battle as she flash-stepped towards Urahara's Shop. By the time she had finished her tale, Jaegerjaques' expression was a particularly pathetic combination of petulant, wounded and that twinge that always seemed to cross an alpha male's face when their ego was bruised.

"Hey, you can't say I didn't warn you," Soi Fon tried to console him, but if anything that made the look on Grimmjow's face even more glowering.

"That's not how it works, woman," he snapped weakly with what strength he could muster from his sapped body. "_I_ protect _you_, not the other way around."

Shaolin's concerned gaze turned wrathful on a dime, her onyx eyes smoldering.

"If you're insinuating that I'm incapable of taking care of myself, you bastard," she hissed, "I'll just drop you right here and let you crawl your way to Urahara's. Is that what you want?"

When the Captain turned her gaze back down to glare at the man in her arms, though, she saw that he had passed out and was breathing softly, a surprisingly peaceful look on his face as he slumbered. Suddenly it felt to Soi Fon like she had gotten sucker-punched by Captain Komamura in the back of the head as the world around her faded into blackness and was supplanted, once again, by a memory.

* * *

He looked so calm lying on his cot that she hated herself for waking him up. But the overlord of their orphanage, Mr. Shiya, had demanded that the two of them enter his office immediately and that was that, even if it was midnight or one in the morning. Shaking him gently, Shaolin looked down into hazily blinking blue eyes and spoke softly but urgently.

"Grimmjow, get up!"

"Whu—Shaolin?" he mumbled, rubbing his eyes once before rolling over halfway and beginning to settle back to sleep. "If you'd wanted to have some fun, you should'a woken me up earlier…" he trailed off, and his friend's eyes narrowed in annoyance as her right hand slipped under his covers, crawled its way down his body and jabbed at the sensitive spot right under his ribcage on the side of his chest.

Grimmjow bolted up awake like he'd been bitten in the ass by a pitbull, gasping for breath while his companion couldn't completely fight back a chuckle at the sight.

"Yeah, yeah; laugh it up, you little wasp," Jaegerjaques groused, focusing himself with a mighty effort and sighing. "So what is it now?"

All traces of humor left the young woman's face in an instant as she replied.

"Shiya wants to see us," she answered tersely, and Grimmjow's expression clouded over as well.

"God damn it," he cursed as the blue-haired young man swung over the side of the bed and rose swiftly, not even bothering to put on a shirt and causing Shaolin to wonder if the temperature in the room had just spiked by five degrees as her skin flushed rapidly.

"C'mon," Grimmjow grunted disdainfully, "let's just get this over with."

As it turned out the overlord of the orphanage had grown tired of the pair of malcontents, convinced by now that no one was ever going to adopt the young adults who were already in their late teens and wondering why he had kept two extra mouths around to feed for such an unnecessarily long time anyway. And so, just as rain began to pour in buckets from the dark thunderclouds overhead and the clock chimed twice in the dark of night, Grimmjow and Shaolin found themselves standing out in front of the building that had seen as a prison for most of their lives.

Shocked at finally being set free as their minds raced with possibilities and their blood sang with joy, the pair got over their euphoria long enough to dash under the cover of a nearby awning before Shaolin leapt into Grimmjow's arms, wrapped her legs tightly around his waist and kissed him with all of her might.

They were still together despite all of the rocky times the orphanage had thrown at them over the years, and now they were free. As they broke apart and caught their breath, the onyx-eyed young woman seemed troubled by her thoughts. Wordlessly nudging her with a gaze, Jaegerjaques coaxed the slightly trembling words from his best friend.

"What are we going to do, Grimmjow?" she asked. "Where are we going to stay?"

"I don't know about that first question, kid," he answered confidently as ever, his eyes sliding over for a moment to take in the interior of the building they were right next to, "but right here looks like a good place to stay for now. You okay with that?"

"Of course I am, you idiot," Shaolin shot back, her dark eyes flaring with strength once again as she smirked and punched her companion on the arm.

"I trust you."

* * *

Soi Fon shot out of the memory with a startled blink as a voice called out to her, shaking her head sharply and realizing that she had flashed all the way to the Urahara Shop while blacked out. Allowing herself a small, self-satisfied smirk at the feat, the Captain soon found herself face-to-face with the concrete pillar of a man who was none other than Tessai Tsukabishi.

"Please, Captain Soi Fon," he asked with the air of someone who was repeating himself, "give the Arrancar to me, and I will begin working on him right away."

"He has a name," the onyx-eyed Soul Reaper said with subtle venom as she reluctantly handed over her comrade while trying to force down the unexpected wave of anxiety that threatened to crush her. "His name is Grimmjow."

The former _Kido_ Corps Captain gave Soi Fon an odd look from behind his glasses but said nothing, turning and walking swiftly back towards the Shop carrying Jaegerjaques. The Second Division Captain stood alone out in the small clearing, puzzling over what she had just seen and experienced. She had been seeing memories in her dreams and sometimes when awake for days now, but that had been the most vivid one yet.

How deeply had they been bonded in this past life that the memories showed to her one piece at a time? More importantly, what had been strong enough to drive them apart?

* * *

**A/N: **_I'm not dead!_ Sorry that took so long, ladies and gentlemen, but schoolwork and a heinous, soul-crushing case of writer's block stymied even my most valiant efforts to get this story back up off the ground until now.

Who jolted me out of this deepest of funks, you ask? It was none other than my incredible beta, **MatsuMama**, who's the sort of person writers dream about having around to help them through tough spots like this one. Major kudos to you, my friend, and I can't put the magnitude of my thanks into words for fear sounding like a squeeling, pre-pubescent fanboy. You rock.

The updates should be coming faster now (I can't promise daily, because I have work to do, but it shouldn't be two weeks-plus like this one was. Again, apologies).

And for anyone who cares to know, the next chapter will be predominantly Hichigo and Orihime focused, as we explore the rapport (or lack thereof) that is developing (or not) between them. Hope to see you there, and as always, **please review**!


	23. Rapunzel

**Disclaimer: **I do not own Bleach, or any of its characters. Tite Kubo does. This story, however, is mine.

**Torn**

**Chapter 23:** Rapunzel

* * *

Shiro, Ichigo's recently liberated Hollow counterpart, was not amused. In fact, his mood was inching from simply perturbed to closer and closer to murderous as attempt after attempt to steal Orihime's drawing notebook was foiled. From Tatsuki blindsiding him with a brutal left hook for "looking at Orihime funny" to the auburn-haired girl's annoying habit of never letting the damn sketch pad out of her sight, it was like the fates were actively conspiring against him. Finally seeing his chance to strike as Inoue split off from her tomboyish friend and began to walk home, the Hollow began to tail the girl whose bizarrely two-faced nature had crawled under his skin and begun to fester.

After a few blocks of steadily increasing his pace, Shiro was almost walking abreast of Inoue and had managed to avoid detection. Fed up with all of the pussyfooting around, the Hollow slid over next to Orihime and, using the moment she recognized him to his advantage, hooked his leg around hers and tripped the auburn-haired girl up completely. Her backpack was open far enough for him to see the prized spiral-bound book and he reached out to grab it, realizing too late that as Inoue fell towards the ground, the backpack moved with her. Barely biting back a curse, Shiro snaked his other arm quickly around Orihime's abdomen and used his weight to stop her fall.

Which had the unforeseen consequence of giving the Hollow a rapid spike in his heart rate as he felt Inoue press back against him hard: suddenly her jugular was so close to his face that Shiro could see her pulse racing beneath her skin as it flushed from the unexpected contact. It was the sort of primal contact that spoke to every instinct a Hollow embodied, and it took all of his willpower to keep from doing unspeakable things to her in the alley ten feet away from them.

"Sorry," he grit out as they broke away, before pausing to register the fact that he had just fucking _apologized_. To _Orihime_.

Fortunately, the human girl got over her shock quickly enough for her spastic reflexes to kick in before it got any more awkward.

"Oh, don't worry about it, Shiro-kun!" she effused, and the Hollow's yellow and black eyes narrowed as he clenched one of his hands into a fist hard enough to draw dark blood out from underneath the skin. It seemed as though karma finally felt like paying Shiro back, because Orihime was oblivious to all of this.

"It was my fault," she began, using the hectic, pitter-patter tone she was so well known for and the one that made the Hollow want to butcher a puppy. "I wasn't looking where I was going, and I must have tripped by accident… that was foolish of me, heh heh… thank you for helping me up, Shiro-kun!" she finished with what she obviously thought would be a placating smile, but wound up doing the exact opposite as Shiro's temper flared up at being addressed so patronizingly. A _bala_ formed instinctively in his hand, but he kept it reined in as he regarded Inoue with a gaze focused enough to cut through diamond.

"Two things, woman," the albino doppelganger of Ichigo said gutturally. His voice seemed to reach out and grab her by the throat while his actual hand raised the _bala_ up in a very pointed threat. "One. I don't care who you are; if you call me that nickname ever again I'm going to rip your vocal chords out. Two. Drop the fucking act already; it's giving me a goddamn migraine."

"I'm sorry?" Orihime parried, and Shiro was glad to her some spine in her voice. Apparently the princess was less than pleased about her cover being blown. Deciding to milk his dominant position for all it was worth, the Hollow diffused the _bala_ and began to walk towards Inoue with a predatory confidence in his steps. To her credit, the girl didn't budge.

"I said, drop the act," he repeated, coming to within arm's length of Orihime and placing a pair of white fingertips over her heart with no concern for what his fingers happened to be resting on.

"You and I both know you're full of shit, woman, and the stink pisses me off. There's only one thing I despise more than someone like Ichigo, who won't acknowledge what they are," Shiro hissed venomously, his voice low but raw, "and that's someone who knows full well what they are and hides anyway because _they're a fucking coward_!"

For once, the gaze in Orihime's eyes did credit to their steely, gray color.

"If you don't want to lose those fingers," she shot back in a tone that almost impressed the Hollow, "I suggest you move them, and do it now."

"Now give me one reason why I should do that," Shiro all but purred with arrogance as his fingers slid up from her chest to rest lightly against Orihime's cheek, "when I finally got a glimpse of your true face, Orihime Inoue?"

The Hollow saw the move coming as plain as day, but he let it play out anyway. It would no doubt force Inoue to show a little more of her true colors, after all, and that was the whole point. Orihime's hand shot up and grabbed Shiro's wrist in a basic hold, twisting it and using her own body along with the leverage to flip the Hollow over and put him on the pavement.

But rather than be upset, Shiro's yellow eyes shined with mirth and he laughed.

"_That's_ what I'm talking about!"

When the half-jeering voice sunk into the auburn-haired girl's head, her demeanor changed completely as she realized that she'd just waltzed right into the Hollow's trap. Releasing the hold limply, she backed away and brushed some imaginary dirt off of her skirt before smoothing it again and giving the prone Shiro a searching look.

"Why are you doing this?" she asked, and the pair of piercing yellow eyes stayed focused lazily on the clouds as the Holllow replied.

"I already told you that, woman. You need to stop pretending to be someone you're not."

"Why do you even fucking care!?"

The outburst caught both of them by surprise, especially as it was coming from Orihime, but she had opened the floodgates and now there was no going back.

"Before you go criticizing me, Hollow, why don't you take a good look in a mirror? You think you're your own person, but you aren't! You're just Kurosaki's rejected emotions put inside a body! You're _nothing_," she finished in a low, sinister voice that seemed to come from somewhere else entirely.

This time Shiro was more than a little unnerved, and it took him a moment to wonder what the hell he had just unleashed before he realized that he was alone. Orihime did her best to keep in the tears of frustration as she hastened away down the street: she was sickened not only by how grossly she'd just been manipulated, but also by the fact that some traitorous part of her body had responded to Shiro's ministrations, and gladly so. As her pulse continued to race and her head felt alarmingly light, Inoue focused intently on the simple task of getting home as quickly as possible and broke into a run.

The Hollow felt something lurch deep in the pit of his stomach as he lay face-up on the pavement, wanting to deny the impact that Orihime's words had had on him but unable to delude himself for long. Hollows were coldly rational beings, a mindset born from a lifetime of predation, and something as sickeningly _human_ as denial had no place in their psyche. To Shiro's immense consternation, he forced himself to accept something he had been hoping he wouldn't have to grapple with since after his defeat at the hands of Zaraki Kenpachi:

The bitch was right.

* * *

Orihime collapsed onto her bed with a weary sigh after tossing her backpack onto the floor, incredibly grateful that neither Soi Fon nor Renji were in her house at the moment. She pressed her hands to her forehead and closed her eyes tightly in a vain attempt to calm her turbulent thoughts; when that didn't work, Inoue got sharply to her feet and began to pace back and forth.

What was wrong with her? Usually, when Tatsuki tried to get her to 'break out of her shell', as her friend had put it, she could just say that she had too much work to do to go out. Tatsuki would always respect her refusal, and that was perfect because she was the only person who had ever really bothered to look beneath the surface and see who Inoue really was.

Until ten minutes ago, that is. And of all the people to rip away her armor, it had been the last one she ever could have anticipated. Even worse, she couldn't get the pale, yellow-and-black eyed Hollow out of her head. The memory of Shiro's surprisingly light touch against her cheek made her shudder, and not in revulsion. It was a reaction she couldn't make sense of at all, and that scared her. Was it because he reminded her of Ichigo?

No, the ruthlessly honest part of her personality broke in, it was exactly because he _didn't_ remind her of Ichigo. Where Ichigo was shy, or reserved around her, Shiro had been bold and assertive. He had seen something he'd wanted and he'd struck, simple as that. And something nestled deep inside of her had reared its head after years of lying dormant, bringing with it a torrent of confusing emotions. She wanted people to treat her like more than a fragile piece of glass, but all they ever saw her as was weak.

"And whose fault is that, woman?"

Inoue's head snapped up sharply at the unexpected retort, finding herself eye-to-eye with the black-and-red clad sprite known as Tsubaki.

"Who decided to curl up into a ball and cower once her brother died?" he pressed, not giving his mistress a chance to weasel her way out of this. "Who let herself be seen as weak, someone that needed protection more than anything? Someone who couldn't act for herself? That was all you, woman, and no one else. You want to blame someone, maybe you should take your own damn advice and look in a mirror!"

"Shut up," Orihime spat back in a weak growl, the hesitancy of which made her want to vomit.

"Deny all you want, woman," Tsubaki said in a parting shot as he began to fade away, "but you know I'm right, and the sooner you realize where the blame really lies here, the happier you'll be. You want things to change, then _do_ something about them."

Now even more confused than she had been before, Inoue began to do the only thing her instincts ever told her to do anymore.

She cowered. She sat on the edge of her bed and hugged her arms to her chest, feeling hopeless and pathetic. Ever since the disaster in Soul Society when Kurosaki had abandoned her, nothing had been the same. Casting a glance around her room in desperation, gray eyes wide, Inoue's gaze came to rest on her backpack. More specifically, on the sketchbook that was poking invitingly out at her.

Getting up with a slight tremble, the auburn-haired girl walked over to her backpack and withdrew the book, gently flipping through the leaves of paper until she came to the illustration she had drawn first that day in class, before thinking better of it. It was a drawing of her when she had been younger, playing a game of _shogi_ with her brother. She would always claim that she'd win the next time after he routinely beat her, but Orihime hadn't had the chance to prove him wrong. Sora had always known what to tell her in those moments where she hadn't know what to do: what would he tell her now?

"Nee-chan," Inoue could hear his light, almost teasing voice say, "don't be ridiculous. What you need to do is go give this punk a taste of his own medicine."

Smiling sadly, she closed the notebook and put it down slowly before rising, her melancholy expression shifting into a victorious, almost devious grin as a plan took shape in her mind.

* * *

It had been a few minutes before he'd gotten up off of the pavement and had begun to trudge back towards the apartment he called home here in the Human World. Contrary to Shiro's expectations, however, this walk had done nothing to help clear his head after that woman… after Orihime's surprising tongue-lashing. Rather, it was doing the exact opposite: the more he felt her words bouncing around in his head, the more he wanted to eviscerate something. The boundless rage and rancor that were his birthright surged through Shiro's blood, and he didn't care if he was proving that bitch right after all… the next person who crossed his path was going to get their shit ruined.

As if on some perverse cue, the Hollow felt something cold and metallic press into the back of his head not a second later.

"Give me your cash," a stone-cold voice hissed out while a hammer clicked back sharply into position, "or your brains hit the pavement."

_Couldn't happen to a nicer guy than this one_, Shiro thought with a wicked smirk. Pausing only long enough to take in a breath, the Hollow reached up with blinding speed and grabbed the would-be mugger's wrist hard enough to shatter the bones instantly. Shiro barely heard the gun clatter to the pavement as he executed a half-turn, the torque causing the mugger to lose his footing and fall hard to the ground. His fist clenched without a second thought, and he completed the turn before bringing a punch down with enough force behind it to crack the punk's head in two.

But then he froze, yellow eyes wide as he came face-to-face with a kid only a year or two younger than Ichigo.

"Please, man, don't do it," he pleaded, extending his free hand in a gesture of supplication. "I'm sorry, all right? I just need some money to pay for my mom's meds…"

The kid's excuse was the furthest thing from Shiro's mind in that moment. The only voices he was hearing as he held the brat's life in his hand were those of Zaraki and Orihime.

_Strip away that anger, and what are you?_

_You're _nothing_._

Nothing, huh?

Fuck that. He'd show all of those bastards.

"If you need to make some money, kid," the Hollow growled as he let the mugger's wrist go with a shove and rose to his feet, "sell that fucking pea-shooter of yours. It's not like you know how to use the damn thing, anyway."

Not even waiting around for the profuse thanks that the kid was probably giving him at the moment, Shiro unclenched his fist and decided to speed up his journey home by disappearing with a buzz of _sonido_.

* * *

As the Hollow was lounging on the couch in the main room of the apartment and drinking yet another beer, Shiro tried unsuccessfully to sort exactly how he felt in the wake of being merciful. It went against everything his instincts had screamed at him, as if he'd decided that black was white and that up was, in fact, down. But the longer he thought about it, the clearer and clearer it became to Shiro that none of that mattered, for one simple reason:

He had made a conscious choice that had run counter to his primal, Hollow way of thinking. He had proven to himself that he was more than just anger and rage and bloodlust, and even if Orihime hadn't been there to see it he would still rub it in her face that next time they met.

The doorbell rang just as Shiro finished the bottle and set it down on the floor, causing the Hollow to raise a white eyebrow in surprise. His fellow exiles all had keys of their own, so who could that be? If it was the weird lady from down the hall with the cat who was always getting lost, he was going to be pissed. Why Grimmjow hadn't just knifed her the last time she'd come around whining, Shiro would never know. Too distracted to look through the eyehole and see who it was the Hollow just pulled the door open, using so much strength he almost yanked it off of its hinges.

"Yeah…?" he began, but his voice trailed off and his eyes widened slowly but surely as the Hollow took in the sight in front of him.

And what a sight it was. Orihime had ditched her school uniform, choosing instead to wear form-fitting blue jeans and a magenta tank top. This outfit, coupled with the sinuous pose she had assumed by leaning against the doorframe, was enough to make Shiro's mouth go bone-dry. He immediately regretted his decision to drink so many beers, because the alcohol had chipped away at his self-control and the Hollow was pretty sure he was staring at her like a complete idiot. The smile that spread across the girl's face just then was decidedly predatory, and Shiro had to fight to repress a shiver as she stepped closer to him, oozing serpentine grace.

"Neliel gave me the address, so I thought I'd drop by," Inoue said in a voice that was far too sultry to actually be hers. "You don't mind, do you, Shiro?" she finished, moving in close enough that the Hollow could pick up something he hazily identified as vanilla on her breath. This time Shiro didn't ignore his instincts, moving to close the gap…

Only to have Orihime slide away at the last possible moment, leaving the Hollow to bite back a snarl of frustration as he met with nothing but air.

"Nice place you have here," Inoue commented blithely, as if she had no idea what a tease she'd just been. Shiro turned around slowly, trying to give himself as much time as possible to figure out what the fuck was going on before facing down Orihime again.

"What are you even doing here?" the Hollow demanded sharply, and Inoue's expression managed to contain both feigned innocence and playful mischief.

"I'm just taking your advice, Shiro-_kun_," she parried, deliberately putting emphasis on the nickname to rile him up even more. "Why, what's wrong? Are you afraid?"

Shiro felt his instincts flare up again at the challenge, but as he saw the smile on Inoue's face become decidedly victorious he stopped himself. Realization dawned on the Hollow and he smirked to himself, now understanding what her gambit was.

She wanted to play this game? That was fine by him.

"Are _you_?" he asked back, taking the initiative this time and moving towards Orihime with calculated steps and a blatantly hungry look in his black and yellow eyes. To his delight, not only did Inoue not flinch, but she closed the distance herself in three steps before snaking an arm around Shiro's waist and moving her head forward until her lips were almost brushing his ear.

"Not at all," she whispered, allowing herself a pleased smirk as she felt the Hollow shiver at the proximity. She had him wound around her finger, and it felt ridiculously empowering. There was no way she was going back to acting timid for no damn reason, and especially not if the results of being assertive were this rewarding.

Shiro was wearing a wide smile of his own: the Hollow was more shocked than ever that Ichigo had never made a move on Inoue, especially if _this_ was what happened when she let her hair down. Clearly that whole thing he had going with Rukia was a front; if he hadn't found Orihime attractive, he was obviously smoking the pole. Which meant that Grimmjow now owed him twenty bucks for losing their long-standing bet.

The Hollow moved one hand from around her waist and slid it gently under Inoue's chin, tilting her head up slightly. Shiro drank in the open, expressive features of her face for a heartbeat before moving in and kissing her, his conscious self and Hollow instincts finding rare common ground as they both rejoiced in the victory.

* * *

Gin Ichimaru looked out over the balcony of Las Noches' throne room and down onto the sands below, which were no longer desolate and empty. Huge open-air enclosures dominated the landscape, visible from above as giant white squares housing scores and scores of Adjuchas-class Hollow.

They were breeding pens.

"Beautiful, are they not?" Aizen's voice floated over smoothly as he approached the balcony and stood by his Lieutenant. "With these running at full capacity, the Vasto Lorde should start appearing in a few weeks' time as the feeding becomes more and more ravenous. After all, it makes no sense to go hunting for the most powerful of Hollows," the overlord finished as a smile crept across his face,

"When we can just make them ourselves."

Turning away from the balcony, Aizen sighed as he began to walk back towards his throne.

"I believe it is almost time to begin putting the first phase of our offense into motion, Gin," he said calmly. "Inform Barragan that he has until two days from now to prepare for combat and select his _fraccion_, and..."

Here Sosuke paused. Ichimaru could tell that his long-time superior was, surprisingly, sincerely troubled by something.

"And I have a reunion to prepare for," Aizen finished pensively, "with an old, dear friend."

* * *

**A/N:** Man, that took a LOT longer than it had any right to. Sorry for the heinously long delay, but this is major crunch-time for colleges and work is crushing my soul right now.

Major props to the brilliant **JasoTheArtisan** for helping me brainstorm my way out of this funk and being an awesome beta. You guys should all go check out his story "**So**"; if you like 'Torn', 'So' is _even better_. Seriously. Read it, Review it; you'll love it.


	24. Chop Suey

**Disclaimer: **I do not own Bleach. Tite Kubo does. This story, however, is mine o' mine.

**Torn**

**Chapter 24:** Chop Suey

* * *

It was not an exaggeration in the slightest to say that, at this moment, Shaolin Fon utterly and thoroughly detested Grimmjow Jaegerjaques. That loathing didn't mean she wouldn't stay by his side and not budge an inch until those piercing blue eyes of his opened again, but it did mean she wasn't going to like it. Because as much as a part of her certainly cared very deeply about the Arrancar's wellbeing, another part of her that was equally strong absolutely despised being controlled.

She'd been groomed her whole life to serve under Lady Yoruichi. And once Shaolin had achieved that goal, she had let herself be deluded into thinking that it would last forever, the feeling of contentment that seemed to shroud her like a protective cloak whenever her Captain was around. But then Lady Yoruichi had abandoned her, and it was like the world fell away from underneath her feet. Her sole purpose had been taken away from her; she was nothing more than a shell, a dog without orders; she might as well not have even existed.

And there was no way Shaolin was going to let herself feel that hollow ever again, even if it meant staring her only shot at happiness in ages in the mouth and punching his teeth out. And yet…

And yet, she had to know. She had to know what the hell all of these visions were leading up to, and why they wouldn't leave her in peace. Her human life was supposed to be dead and buried in the ground somewhere, not haunting her dreams. But the images would keep sprouting up anyway, like an irrepressible hydra, and just as venomous. The poison of curiosity seeped slowly into her veins, and before she knew it Shaolin had been all-but consumed by the desire to know not only what she and Grimmjow had meant to each other in the past, but also just what had been cataclysmic enough to drive them apart.

Sighing in exasperation as her willpower finally cracked and caved in, the onyx-eyed Soul Reaper placed her hands on each side of the sleeping Arrancar's head. As her fingers rested gingerly against his temples, Shaolin closed her eyes and exhaled slowly, opening up the connection and letting Grimmjow's reiatsu flow into her own consciousness. The sudden rush of sheer power was almost suffocating, and her own thoughts faded away as they were overwhelmed by the crush of memories.

There was no turning back now, for better or for worse.

* * *

Grimmjow Jaegerjaques was not the kind of guy to plan things out way in advance, but he still tried to be prepared for worst-case scenarios.

Unfortunately, nothing he had prepared for had come even remotely close to _this_.

"What's wrong, Grimmjow?" the rough, gravelly voice of his Boss rumbled. "Don't tell me you are having second thoughts about this assignment?"

"With all due respect, _Oyabun_," the blue-haired man replied in a tone that conveyed minimal amounts of it, "we had an arrangement. I slum for you against Fujiwara, and in exchange for a severe pay-cut you don't give me any jobs that'd put Shaolin in danger."

"I fail to see how this would jeopardize the safety of your woman, _shateigashira_," the Yakuza boss retorted. "She is strong, is she not? Able to stand on her own?"

"Not against the Fujiwara's retribution, godamnit!" Jaegerjaques snapped, bringing his cup of sake down with a harsh clatter as the soldiers around him tensed up. The boss waved them off casually and took another pull from the cigarette dangling between his lips, unfazed by his Lieutenant's outburst. As the old man said nothing, Grimmjow continued his rebuttal.

"This is how it works, isn't it? The heat stays offa you 'cause all of the grunts are the triggermen, and the other soldiers come after them instead of you. That's how you stay clean, and I can respect that. But what I can't respect is your giving me a job that'll have the death squads goin' after what matters to me, simple as that."

"Well, if that is your only objection," the Boss replied with all the sly smugness of a python coiling its way around dinner, "I have the ideal solution. You can select a detachment of men to guard your woman for the duration of this assignment and its aftermath. How does that sound to you, Grimmjow?"

Jaegerjaques' blue eyes widened as he felt the noose tighten around his neck, and he had to bite back the urge to lunge across the table and plant his fist firmly in his superior's face. He'd let himself be trapped by a rookie mistake, and now nothing would stop his Boss from giving the order to off Shaolin from his end if Grimmjow refused to play ball.

"Sounds like a plan, Oyabun," he growled, finishing off his cup of sake quickly and rising before stalking out of the room, pushing past some rank-and-file soldiers as he did so.

"I am truly glad we understand each other, Grimmjow," the Boss mumbled to himself as he finished his cigarette, ashing it in his underling's empty sake cup.

* * *

"Okay, spill it."

A single blue eyebrow arched quizzically at the demand.

"What?"

Shaolin's dark eyes narrowed as the man across from her feigned ignorance; she couldn't stand when he tried to stonewall her like this.

"Cut the bullshit, Grimmjow. Something big is bothering you; you're never this quiet otherwise. What's going on?"

Jaegerjaques took out his sudden anger spike on a piece of chicken, chewing it until he was just grinding on his own teeth before he answered the woman across from him.

"The Boss asked me to do something," he began heavily. "Somethin' dangerous, more than usual."

"So?" Shaolin shot back, totally unperturbed, and Grimmjow almost choked on the gulp of water he'd just taken. "What's your point? It's not like being a hired gun's all rainbows and fucking butterflies, you idiot."

"What's my point?" The blue-eyed man echoed, mystified, before he regained his balance and continued with fire back in his tone.

"My point is that this is serious shit, Shaolin! If it goes wrong, or even if it goes right, you could get killed, or worse!"

After staying silent for several moments, Shaolin arched an eyebrow of her own and spoke, her tone slyly teasing.

"Grimmjow, are you _worried_ about me?"

"What kind'a question is that, you moron?!" he half-shouted back. "Of course I am!" Realizing too late that he had tread onto overly emotional ground, Jaegerjaques shoved a piece of chicken into his mouth and chewed on it mightily.

"Yer thucking imposhible, uhman," he forced out around his mouthful, and Shaolin's expression wrinkled slightly in disgust.

"If this is going to be our last dinner together, Grimmjow," she said disdainfully, "please don't eat it like a five-year-old."

Grimmjow responded to the taunt by expertly flinging a piece of chicken across the table with his fork, leaving a red stain on Shaolin's white shirt as the tomato sauce made its mark.

"Classy," she groused, and Jaegerjaques just grinned like a cat with a mouthful of canary in response.

"Always am, kid," he parried as soon as he'd swallowed, and Shaolin couldn't completely fight back a smile. Damn this man for always being able to slip past her layers of coldness every time she tried to be mad at him. Then again, if anyone would be able to pull that feat off, leave it to the infuriating bastard sitting across from her.

"I'll be fine, Grimmjow; seriously," Shaolin rejoined after the tension between them had seeped away entirely. "I always am."

"I know; I know," Grimmjow replied with uncommon seriousness as he finished his dinner and rose from the table. "But there's a first time for everything, right?"

Feeling herself growing more and more annoyed as Grimmjow's negative buzz was killing her own mood, Shaolin got up and walked purposefully over towards her… well, she was kind of unsure exactly _what_ Grimmjow was to her at this point. That ambiguity didn't change the fact that he was being pointlessly gloomy, though.

"Stop acting so melodramatic, Grimmjow," Shaolin said as she came up behind him, wrapping her arms around his shoulders and laying her hands over his sternum. "It's pissing me off."

"Do something about it, then," Jaegerjaques spoke back in a half-growl, "other than getting that tomato sauce on my shirt. I like this shirt."

"And whose fault is it that _my_ shirt got dirty in the first place?" Shaolin parried, a smirk in her voice as she began to unravel the embrace, only to stop with both hands gripping the back of the shirt's collar. With one smooth pull, the garment had been torn clean in half, red stain and all.

"Problem solved," the dark-haired woman half-purred with smug satisfaction. As Grimmjow turned slowly to face her, Shaolin fought to keep back a shiver as those blue eyes pinned her with his most predatory and unpredictable gaze.

"I thought I told you," he began, glancing pointedly down at the pieces of now-useless cloth in Shaolin's hands before looking back up at her, "that I liked that shirt."

"Do something about it, then," she parried, shooting his own words back as her eyes glinted with a combination of mischief and lust.

"I just might, Shaolin," Grimmjow replied edgily, a hungry smirk on his face as he trailed his fingers from her cheek down to along her collarbone before slipping them under the top of her shirt. He paused for a moment to admire the half-lidded look in her eyes before grinning as they snapped open in shock at the moment he returned the favor and ripped her shirt in half. It had been a ridiculous-looking piece of crap anyway; the world was better off without it.

"What the fuck, Grimmjow?! What'd you do that… for…"

Her complaint trailed off into nothing more than mumbles punctuated by the occasional moan as Grimmjow planted hungry kisses along her chest, thanking all the gods he could remember at the moment that Shaolin made a habit of not wearing a bra.

"Turnabout's fair play, little bee," he half-hissed as he brought his face up to look into her eyes again. "Didn't I tell you not to give unless you can take?"

Grimmjow had silenced Shaolin's voice with a kiss before she could reply, and the onyx-eyed woman allowed herself a moment of pride over having gotten rid of Grimmjow's melancholy before abandoning conscious thought altogether as Jaegerjaques pushed her up against a wall and their pants quickly joined the remains of their shirts in a pile on the floor.

* * *

A few hours later, Grimmjow stood over the slumbering form of Shaolin Fon and a rare, genuine smile crossed his lips. She always looked so peaceful and relaxed when she slept, it was hard to imagine that the tough-as-nails iron belle he spent his days with was the same person. Brushing a stray bunch of hairs out of her face, his smile grew as Shaolin mumbled cutely in her sleep and curled into a tighter ball. After another moment, though, Jaegerjaques steeled himself and left the room to prepare for the last thing he wanted to do. Five minutes later, the mercenary was armed and ready to go. Before he headed out the door, Grimmjow locked eyes with the head of the detail he'd picked to guard Shaolin in his absence and spoke in a steely, commanding tone.

"If anything happens to her, and I mean _anything_, I'm going to hunt you down and skin you alive. Is that in any way unclear?"

"Not at all, sir," the soldier replied, and Jaegerjaques' blue eyes glinted hard in approval.

"Good. Don't let me down."

And with that, Grimmjow Jaegerjaques left his only true friend behind and walked out into the night.

* * *

The mission turned out to be what Grimmjow would normally call a 'Resounding Fucking Success', and yet he couldn't shake the feeling that something was very, very wrong. As he opened the door to his apartment, Jaegerjaques' worst fear leapt out of his nightmares and spread out in front of him in all of its gory, bloody glory.

The bodies of all five of the handpicked soldiers were sprawled out on the ground, triple-tapped with bullets and almost afloat in pools of blood. Swallowing his gut reaction of panic, Grimmjow went from room to room quickly and methodically, gun at the ready, looking for the only corpse that mattered. When he couldn't find it, however, the knot in his stomach only tightened.

As if on some perverse cue, the shrill sound of the phone ringing broke through Grimmjow's thoughts. Hurrying to the phone, he ripped it off of the hook and brought the receiver to his ear, about to speak when a cold voice cut him off.

"Hello, Jaegerjaques. Long time, no talk."

The harsh tone of his former superior cut through Grimmjow's anxiety like a blade, replacing it with a focused, growing hatred.

"Boss Fujiwara," the blue-eyed assassin replied, struggling to keep his voice even. "This isn't a call I was expecting to get, considering that I killed you about an hour ago."

"Silly child," the rival yakuza boss said mockingly, "all that time you spent working for me, and you never took the time to figure out that I had a body double waiting in the wings for the day someone vicious enough actually managed to come after me? Well, Grimmjow, I'm not in the habit of making such pathetic, short-sighted mistakes. I learned a lot about you, Jaegerjaques. About what makes you… tick.

"That's why I sent men to your apartment as soon as you left, that's why I had those men eliminate the weak guard you put up around your woman, and that's why she's… well, I'll let you see for yourself. Suffice to say, according to the troops she put out like a true whore, even after the sixth round…"

"I'm going to kill you," Grimmjow hissed, the corners of his eyes burning with something he refused to acknowledge as tears. "I'm going to find you, and I'm going to kill you. Your entire fucking family is dead, you old sack of shit. Do you hear me!?"

"Loud and clear, old friend," Boss Fujiwara replied casually, as if Grimmjow had been threatening to steal his car. "But before you embark on your oh-so-noble quest for vengeance, don't you think you should take out the trash?"

The line went dead with a dull click, and Grimmjow let the receiver dangle lifelessly as he dashed out onto the fire escape and hurried down it, jumping the last six steps and landing on the gravel with a crunch. Crossing the ground in three long strides, Jaegerjaques paused in front of the dumpster and forced down his anxiety with a hard swallow. Reaching out with numb arms, he lifted the metal lid and came face-to-face with a sight that broke his heart in an instant, before grinding the pieces into the dirt and making sure he would never find them again.

Shaolin's black eyes looked up at him, open and tense, the expression on her face twisted with pain. Her face, however, wasn't connected with the rest of her body past the neck. Her head had been cut off, and judging by the wound a katana had done the job. Fujiwara's henchmen, there was no doubt about that now. The rest of her body had suffered a similar fate, and it took every ounce of strength Grimmjow possessed to keep it together as he slowly retrieved the pieces of Shaolin's corpse.

Ten minutes later, the grizzly deed was done. Five more and he'd put them all in a plastic bag and hit the road, driving until his car ran out of gas. The old hunk of metal rolled to a stop by a public park, and it was there that Shaolin Fon's earthly remains were buried. It was also on that spot, in dead of night, that Grimmjow Jaegerjaques shed his first, and last real tears. By the time he had left the remains of his best friend and confidant behind, the blue-eyed soldier's eyes were bone-dry, his gaze as hard as stone. Boss Fujiwara had taken absolutely everything from him:

It was time to return the favor.

* * *

Grimmjow's hatred was exceeded only by his determination to achieve vengeance, and his determination in turn was only surpassed by his capacity for unrestrained brutality. The Fujiwara Clan's fall was swift and bloody, with a body count that made the police think a full-blown yakuza war had broken out. And in that case, there was no way they were getting in the middle of it. And yet, no matter how many corpses he left in his wake, the hole that had been carved in his heart by Shaolin's death had done nothing but grow with time. Soon enough he found himself sitting in the park, alone, looking out at the patch of earth where he knew she was buried with dead eyes. Nights melted into days and back into nights, but Grimmjow couldn't have cared less. When the son of a Fujiwara gangster he had vivisected walked up to him and put a gun barrel to his head, Jaegerjaques didn't even flinch.

When the trigger was pulled, though, was when his hell well and truly began.

Every instinct in his ethereal body was screaming at him to move on, to leave her behind and pass into whatever shit-hole would pass for his next life, but the ghost that Grimmjow was now couldn't move on. Shackled by his guilt, self-loathing and boundless, directionless hatred, the blue-eyed soul languished until his eyes became yellow. The hole in his heart widened to encompass most of his abdomen, and the soul known as Grimmjow Jaegerjaques eroded away in a burst of agony to become a Hollow. Along with the hardened, white mask and monstrous, panther-like body, there was another facet of being a Hollow that caught Grimmjow completely off-guard.

The hunger.

Everywhere he looked, he saw the lingering souls of the departed just waiting to be devoured. Old, young, it didn't matter to Grimmjow whom he ate: all that mattered was filling the hole in his soul, but no matter how many he consumed the hole never came any closer to filling up; in fact, his hunger simply became more ravenous, the need to consume more and more fervent. This, Jaegerjaques assumed, was what it meant to be damned.

The non-corporeal carnage went on for several more days totally unimpeded, until the newborn Hollow ran into the last soul he thought he would ever see.

He had been about to pounce on the soul that had been foolish enough to wander the streets alone and rip its jugular out, when that idiotic soul turned around and looked right at him. If Grimmjow had still had a heart, he was fairly certain that it would be breaking all over again. And from what he could see, his little bee seemed to be thinking exactly the same thing.

Unfortunately for Shaolin, that moment of hesitation allowed _another_ Hollow to leap out of the cover of some trees and tackle her to the ground. Grimmjow's yellow eyes narrowed in rancor as he watched the mantis-like Hollow pin the soul of his dearly departed friend to the ground, and all of the ravenous hunger that fueled his hunt was shifted into seething hatred for the shitstain that would dare lay its mandibles on what was _his._ Before he could get too caught up on the issue of whether or not he could really consider Shaolin 'his' at this point, Grimmjow's animalistic instincts had propelled him forward with enough force to knock the mantis-shaped Hollow off of her.

The next few moments were a blur of blood, rage and adrenaline as his claws tried to hack viciously through the other bastard's carapace, wanting nothing more than to tear, rend and destroy this worthless insect with his fangs. Suddenly a strong concussive blast threw both off the Hollows away, and they came apart as they tumbled along the asphalt. The other Hollow vanished through an improvised, sloppy _garganta_ with a snarl, but Grimmjow stayed right where he was. If someone else wanted a crack at Shaolin, they'd still have to go through him. Rising back up from the ground and trying to ignore the leaden feeling in his limbs, Jaegerjaques blinked a few times and snarled at the new figure that had appeared next to Shaolin's soul, or ghost, or… well, whatever the fuck she was now.

This new arrival was a man who was far too solid to be a ghost, and yet he could obviously see spirits. He was dressed oddly, too, in a black set of almost funeral-style robes and carrying a sword held in place at his hip by a sash. Messy blond hair hung down partly over his face, and his gray eyes seemed to be paradoxically both aloof and incredibly focused.

"My, my, you're a tenacious one, aren't you?" the man said as he stepped forward, drawing his sword from its sheath. "Just the kind I can't afford to take any chances with. _Sing, Benihi—_"

"Stop!"

The deceptively strong grip of Shaolin's slim hand around the strange man's wrist halted the attack before it could be launched, and he turned to regard her with thinly-veiled shock.

"What do you think you're doing, kid? This Hollow just tried to kill you, and now you're saving its worthless hide?"

"_He_ didn't just try to kill me, you idiot," Shaolin spat back, fire in her eyes. "He saved my ass, and I'm just returning the favor."

Seeing his escape opportunity and taking it, Grimmjow tore open a hasty _garganta_ and dashed through it, leaving the physical world behind and entering the blasted, barren landscape of Hueco Mundo. As he lay sprawled out on the sands, half-asleep and slowly recovering his energy, Jaegerjaques swore to himself that he would never again rely on anyone to save him, like Shaolin had back there. From here on out, he fought alone, pure and simple.

Grimmjow arose a few hours later and began hunting once again, and the more he consumed the thinner and thinner the sliver of his self-control became until he had completely embraced the predatory life of a Hollow. Slowly but surely the memories of the young woman he had known as Shaolin Fon faded away into nothingness, and after enough time had passed it was as if she had never even existed at all.

* * *

For her part, Shaolin held on to the fading images as long as she could.

"Don't worry," the blond man with gray eyes—or had they been blue?—had told her, whose name she could no longer remember. "Once I send you to Soul Society, you'll forget all about the pain you've felt in this world. You'll be reborn, have a second chance, all that good stuff!"

But it hadn't happened entirely like the man—or had it been a woman?—had said. There were some memories she had held on to, images where none were supposed to be. They felt like someone else's recollections, but Shaolin clung to them because she had nothing else. Snapshots of a boy with blue eyes and equally bright hair, of a young woman who looked oddly like her and a grown-up version of that boy embracing under an awning in the rain…

Soon enough, however, those images washed out completely and were forgotten, leaving Shaolin to wander the streets of the Rukongai with nothing but her one name and an odd ache in her chest, like she was forgetting something important. As minutes ticked by into days and days bled into months, though, the ache disappeared as though it had never been, and it was only a matter of time before Shaolin got noticed for her fighting skills and was adopted into the Fon Clan to serve as a potential bodyguard for someone they called "Lady Yoruichi". Shaolin didn't know why, but that last name just seemed… right to her. Fon. Like she'd been meant to carry it.

Shortly after her dark eyes had fallen on the majestic face of Lady Yoruichi Shihoin for the first time, Shaolin Fon became Soi Fon, and the image of the blue-haired boy she had once held so close to her heart vanished forever.

* * *

Soi Fon's eyes flew open and she stumbled backwards several steps as the onslaught of memories finally ceased, the flood of emotions that didn't feel like her own making her head feel light as the room began to spin around her. Desperate for air she flash-stepped outside, inhaling breaths in huge gulps as she fell to her knees and screwed her eyes shut in a vain attempt to block out the pain that throbbed deep within her mind.

But it wouldn't go away that easily; it was as if her human persona, the one she had cast off like an old skin upon transferring to Soul Society, was warring with her own for dominance, and it didn't seem like it wanted to lose this battle. The only way to keep from losing either of her equally-vital halves, Soi Fon quickly realized, was to combine them into a single, functioning whole. While it was true that this meant accepting the pain and loss that came from all of her human experiences, including her rather gruesome death, it also meant preserving the first truly happy memories she had known in centuries. In her mind, that was worth the cost of the human torment.

Opening up her consciousness to the foreign memories was in some ways more painful than having them bashing at the gates of her mind, and Soi Fon was immobilized for several moments as the swirling, tempestuous flood of human memories made itself at home in her head for good. She felt oddly calm in the aftermath, as if a long-lost part of her psyche had finally been found and replaced, filling the odd lack of _something_ she'd felt throughout her time as a denizen of Soul Society. But alongside this feeling of strange completion, a piercing longing blindsided the Soul Reaper and lodged itself right in her heart.

It had been so long since she'd felt even an inkling of genuine emotion that her gut reaction to it was so strong it almost bowled her over all over again. She kept her footing, though, and regained her breath a few moments later. In the moment of reconciliation with this almost-overpowering feeling that could only really be one thing, Soi Fon unexpectedly came to the answer of a question she thought she would never know.

Now, she knew why Yoruichi had left her all those years ago. She really, _truly_ knew. Urahara was to her former Captain what Grimmjow was to her; if she had been in Yoruichi's place, she would've departed from Soul Society without a second's hesitation if it meant saving Grimmjow's life. Soi Fon's calm only increased as the bitter weight she had been carrying with her all of this time rolled off of her shoulders: she could forgive Yoruichi now, now that they understood each other. Sighing and turning around, the onyx-eyed Soul Reaper was about to walk back inside the Shop and check on Grimmjow when she found herself staring into a pair of bright, icy blue eyes.

"Hey."

The word sounded worlds away from his usual sharp, brash tone, but at its core it was still _his_ voice. Clearly, the flow of memories hadn't been just one-way. Snapping herself out of her thoughts, Soi Fon's newborn concern surged to the front of her mind and she frowned.

"What're you doing out of bed, you idiot?" she growled, in an effort to keep herself from doing something terribly cliché. She wasn't about to let her guard down completely, not until she was sure they were on the same page. Grimmjow just smirked that smirk of his, flexing his healed and decidedly bandage-free left arm to drive the point home.

"What're you talking about, Shaolin? I've been patched up for hours already."

Soi Fon's eyes widened in surprise as the words sunk in, before narrowing murderously.

"You _what_?" she hissed, pacing towards Jaegerjaques like a lioness on the prowl. "Why didn't you say anything, you asshole? Do you have any idea how worried I was!?"

"Well, you looked like you could've used a rest after that fight," Grimmjow parried, unmoved by the death-glare Soi Fon was giving him, "and once you started that last avalanche of memories, there wasn't much I could do anyway…" the Arrancar's voice trailed off as a glint sprung up in his eye, a knowing smirk crossing his face that made Soi Fon freeze in place, her movement towards Grimmjow completely stymied.

"Is it just me, little bee," he said with a smugness that made the Soul Reaper want to tear his throat out with her teeth, "or did you admit to being _worried_ about me just now?"

"I don't know what you're talking about," she replied petulantly, clearly trying to save face and failing in a way Grimmjow found quite hilarious. Restraining himself to barking out a short laugh, he closed the distance between them in a stride and wrapped his arms around her svelte form, pulling her to him.

"I missed you, kid," Grimmjow said softly as he rested his chin atop her head, and Soi Fon smiled into his collarbone as she realized that those words were as close to a confession as she would ever get from him.

"I know."

* * *

Isshin Kurosaki sat in the large, comfortable chair in his living room, one arm resting over the side while his other hand was full of a lowball glass and a liberal amount of scotch. As another figure walked purposefully and quietly into the room, a bitter smirk crossed the older Soul Reaper's face.

"Took you long enough, brother," he spoke to the new arrival. "And here I thought you were always the punctual one."

"My apologies," the smooth voice of Sosuke Aizen replied as the brown-haired Soul Reaper stepped out into the dim light. "I thought I would be doing you a favor, giving you time for one last drink. I had no idea you were in such a hurry to die, Isshin."

"I've done what I came here to do, Sosuke," Kurosaki replied easily, finishing his drink. "If I die by your hand tonight, I'll consider it nothing more than atonement for my sins. Where is Ichigo?"

"Stark, Barragan and Halibel are keeping Ichigo and his band of misfits occupied," Aizen answered as he sat down across from Isshin, settling into the chair with a slight sigh. "He doesn't need to see this, don't you agree?"

"No," Kurosaki replied stonily, "he doesn't. But tell me something, little brother. What exactly do you think Ichigo is going to do when he arrives here and finds my dead body?"

"Exactly what I know he will do," the other Soul Reaper replied calmly, "and that is all that matters."

"He's stronger than you give him credit for, you know," Isshin mused as he put down his glass and rose to his feet, Aizen following suit. "He has too much of his mother in him to be swayed by something as petty as what you can offer him."

"I beg to differ, elder brother," Sosuke replied evenly as he drew his zanpakuto, the moonlight glancing off of the silver blade. "He takes after me more than you allow yourself to realize, and once he achieves true power there is only one path he will walk: the path I will lay out for him."

"We'll see soon enough, Sosuke," Isshin replied with a sad smile. "I just wish I could see the look on your face when he proves you wrong."

Aizen smirked, a twisted expression that Isshin knew all-too well, no matter what face his snake of a sibling was wearing.

"I'm surprised at you, brother, honestly," he said with venomous smoothness. "You didn't even notice that your two daughters were already dead by the time I came in here, did you?"

"What!?"

Isshin Kurosaki's eyes widened in shock as his devious sibling's smirk widened. But before he could switch completely to his Soul Reaper state, Kyoka Suigetsu had already buried itself deep in his chest.

"For what it is worth," Aizen spoke in a tone shockingly close to guilt as Isshin felt his lifeblood ebb from his veins, "I am sorry. If only you had not been so blind, things might not have come to this."

"You bastard…" Kurosaki gasped, his voice hard with rare, unadulterated hatred. "I should have killed you all those years ago, when I had the chance."

"Yes, probably," Sosuke admitted pensively, "but you were a fool, and let me live. And now, it is because of that compassion that you die by my hand."

Aizen withdrew his zanpakuto with a hiss, wiping the blood off of the blade and re-sheathing it as the dying body of Isshin Kurosaki fell to the floor with a thud, blood gathering slowly in a pool underneath it.

"Farewell, brother," Sosuke spoke as he tore open a small _garganta_, stepping through it and closing the portal behind him just as the door burst open and Ichigo charged into the room.

* * *

**A/N:** And so the endgame finally begins. School just wrapped up for me recently, which is why there was such a long delay in writing up this chapter, but hopefully the content made up for it.

And in case any of you were wondering about the title, I took a page out of my buddy **JasoTheArtisan**'s playbook and used the title of a song that had lyrics I thought meshed well with the contents of the chapter. In this case, it was 'Chop Suey' by System of a Down. Speaking of **Jaso**, mad props to both him and **MatsuMama** for beta'ing this, or looking over it, or however you want to put it :-P.

Hope you enjoyed the chapter, and as always, **please review**!


	25. Dig Two Graves

**Disclaimer:** I don't own Bleach, or any of its characters. This story, however, is mine all mine.

**Torn**

**Chapter 25: **Dig Two Graves

* * *

Ichigo knew from the moment that Stark, Halibel and Barragan were encased in the golden light of _negacion_ that something was terribly, terribly wrong. Because the only reason why three enemies that powerful would stop their assault and leave before finishing off their enemies would be if they hadn't been ordered to kill in the first place.

Which meant they'd all been part of a diversion. And if Aizen was willing to make sure no one interrupted what he was doing to the point of using his three strongest soldiers as a simple diversion, then what he was doing was most likely horrendous. Not even waiting to see what Soi Fon's squadron was going to do, he shot off into the night like a bolt of lightning headed right for his house.

Ichigo was certain that whatever Aizen had done had involved his family, but for the life of him couldn't explain why he felt the way he did. All he knew was that dread pressed him on like hellhounds nipping at his heels. His flash-steps were so fast that Grimmjow struggled to keep up with him, a large gash on the Arrancar's chest slowing him down considerably. Neliel lagged even further behind, carrying a wounded Ulquiorra slung over her shoulder. The ominous feeling persisted all the way to the Kurosaki house, until Ichigo ripped the door from its hinges and became the first to witness the gruesome scene that Aizen had left in his wake.

Grimmjow's anxious voice fell on deaf ears as Ichigo's wide brown eyes took in the sight of his father's corpse with horror. His mind jumping immediately to the worst-case scenario, the Soul Reaper shot up the stairs as Jaegerjaques finally reached the scene of the murder. The Arrancar's sharp eyes narrowed as he sniffed the air pointedly, hovering around where Aizen had torn open the _garganta_.

"Aizen's reiatsu's all over this room, and it stinks," he said. "That bastard's the one who did this, no question—"

Grimmjow's words were cut off abruptly by an anguished shout from the floor above, the tone unmistakably Ichigo's. The room was dead silent for several moments, a quiet that was broken as the only surviving Kurosaki walked back down the stairs. The bodies of his younger sisters were cradled in his arms, arms that were now streaked with dark, lifeless blood. Wordlessly, Ichigo knelt down, placed the pair of corpses by his father's body and wept. The three former Espada gave him space and left the room, Ulquiorra now walking under his own power as the various gashes Halibel had given him finally began healing in earnest. As they exchanged worried glances beneath the cloud-obscured stars, the trio of Arrancar was soon joined by Soi Fon and her group of Soul Reapers.

"What're you all doing here?" Soi Fon asked, her voice edged with a commander's authority, but Grimmjow silenced her with a look.

"If any of you go in there now," he said seriously, "I wouldn't be surprised if Kurosaki snapped your necks before you could blink. Kid's about as stable as a starving Hollow."

"Why?" This from Rukia, who pushed past her leader to be face-to-face with Jaegerjaques. "What happened?"

"Aizen butchered his entire family, that's what happened."

Grimmjow's heavy words hung in the air, oppressively enforcing silence over the gathered warriors until it was shattered by a peal of thunder in the distance. Neliel raised her head to look up at the crescent moon, her pale-golden eyes unreadable.

"It's going to rain soon."

Seeing no reason to linger, the majority of the Soul Reapers present dispersed at once with faint whispers as they flash-stepped away. Rukia lingered behind, and Soi Fon stayed just long enough to give Grimmjow a look that said 'be careful' in no uncertain terms before vanishing. The four who remained, the three Arrancar and one Soul Reaper, waited tensely for Ichigo to emerge from within the house. When he did, it was clear that the young warrior was as unstable as Grimmjow had predicted he would be.

One eye was its normal brown, while the other was the black-and-yellow that signaled the dominion of his Hollow instincts. Small droplets of blood dripped slowly from his fingertips down onto the grass as Ichigo walked forward, his mismatched eyes open but unseeing.

"Ichigo…?" Rukia breathed out, but the Soul Reaper made no gesture to show he'd heard Kuchiki say anything. A heartbeat later he was gone, disappearing with a sound that was halfway between the harsh buzz of _sonido_ and the graceful whisper of _shunpo_. Where he was going was anybody's guess, but one thing was for certain:

The person he was paying a visit to was beyond screwed.

* * *

It was only because Ichigo was trying to get information out of Kisuke Urahara that the initial chokeslam into the far wall of the Shop only knocked the breath out of him, and didn't rip the former Captain's head from his shoulders instead.

"_Why didn't you help him!?_"

The question was given voice in a strangled, mangled hiss that made it sound like glass was being raked across Kurosaki's vocal chords, and the words were loaded with enough killing intent to worry even the normally-unflappable Urahara. He'd been in some binds in his time, but nothing quite like having to reason with a monstrously powerful, unstable and not-entirely human teenage boy.

"I don't… know… what you're… talking about!" Kisuke hacked out, hoping that gut honestly would come to his aid.

Unfortunately, gut honesty chose to cackle madly, turn around and walk whistling out the door, abandoning Urahara to a rather bleak-looking immediate future.

"Don't fuck with me!" the monster-that-was Ichigo snarled, tightening his grip on the former Captain's neck and forcing Kisuke to start taking this seriously if he didn't want to walk away from this with any scars. Focusing his reiatsu, the grey-eyed shopkeeper gave Ichigo's hand a jolt. Seizing the resulting opening, Urahara delivered a hard knee to Ichigo's sternum. He wordlessly called out Benihime's _shikai_ as Kurosaki stumbled backwards, snarling in rage. Lunging forward and placing the tip of his zanpakuto against Kurosaki's jugular, Kisuke made sure that the kid was aware of who was in control before he began to speak.

"Kurosaki-san," he said as evenly as he could, some of the adrenaline coursing through his veins making itself audible in his tone, "I can see that you are in a state of considerable distress. I can do nothing to assist you, however, if you do not tell me what the hell is wrong with you. And for the record, barging in here like that and strangling me half to unconsciousness is not the best way to get information from me."

"They're dead!" Ichigo replied in his strained tone, both of his differently-colored eyes wide with rage. "My whole family is _dead_, you piece of shit, and you did nothing to help them!"

Urahara's eyes widened almost imperceptibly at this news, before his expression relaxed into a mask of resigned melancholy as the former Captain sighed and the tip of his zanpakuto dropped from Kurosaki's neck.

"I see," Kisuke said after a few moments of tense silence, looking hundreds of years older in an instant. "You probably want to kill me right now, Kurosaki-san, and to be honest, I can't blame you. In fact, part of me would welcome it if I didn't have anything left to live for. But the fact is that I do have things left to live for, and also that there are… certain things about your father of which you remain ignorant. Things that, I imagine, would change your view of this situation considerably."

"Stop talking in riddles and explain, before I rip your throat out."

Sighing at the brash nature of his former student that had seemingly been dyed into his bones, Urahara replied.

"Your father was a Soul Reaper, Kurosaki-san."

This fact alone was enough to shock Ichigo clean out of his half-Hollowized state and back to some semblance of normalcy, with both of his eyes once again shining brown in the faint light.

"What?" he breathed out, and Kisuke re-sealed his zanpakuto with a thought before continuing.

"Isshin Kurosaki, your father, was a Soul Reaper. Not only that, but he was once a member of the Royal Guard, the foremost group of soldiers in all of the Spirit World. He only came here by request, to escape the pain he felt over something he had been compelled to do. He never told me what it was, but I suppose he had his reasons for keeping his secrets."

"And you waited until _now_ to tell me all of this because…?" Ichigo shot back, his head reeling from what he'd just been told. Urahara flashed a grim smile.

"Because, Kurosaki-san, if I had broken my promise to your father and told you the truth before now, he very likely would have killed me."

Normally the former Captain's tone would hold a teasing lilt when he said things like that, but the steely seriousness of his voice captured Ichigo's attention and held it.

"So why didn't you help him?" Ichigo repeated, but the venom from earlier was absent from the question this time, replaced with a hollow acceptance mingled with lingering disbelief that his father was actually gone.

"Because he told me something like this might happen a few days ago," Urahara replied as he wearily surveyed the damage caused by the younger Soul Reaper's rampage, "and explicitly instructed me not to interfere. You can come out now, Ururu," he called out into the shadows, and the diminutive assistant quickly darted out of the shadows. She promptly latched onto Kisuke's abdomen in a terrified embrace, making Ichigo feel like a total asshole.

"It's all right," Urahara reassured his young helper softly. "I'm all right, trust me." A few moments later, once the girl had calmed down, the shopkeeper spoke again.

"Ururu, could you do me a huge favor and bring out the box that I have sealed up in the back?"

"You mean _the_ box, Kisuke-san?" she asked, and he nodded. "But you told Jinta and me to never…"

"I know what I told you two _then_," the Soul Reaper said gently, "but this is what I'm telling you _now_. Go get the box, please, Ururu."

She vanished at once, the rapid pitter-patter of her feet fading down the hallway only to return just as quickly when she stepped back into the light a few moments later, a small box in her arms.

"Thank you very much, Ururu," Urahara said smoothly as he took the box from his helper, and the girl blushed mightily before stuttering something and skittering back off into the recesses of the Shop. Kisuke gave a short chuckle and shook his head before turning to face Ichigo, extending the box out towards him wordlessly.

"What's this?" Kurosaki asked skeptically as he took the box from Urahara, noticing the intricate seal that had been carved into the top of the lid using reiatsu, holding it fast.

"What you are holding in your hands now, Kurosaki-san," Kisuke explained, "is your father's Last Will and Testament, which he entrusted to me some time ago. The seal on top of the box can only be opened by your reiatsu, and no one else's."

Ichigo glanced back down and was surprised to see that the black engraving was now pulsing a bright red, disappearing after a few moments. Lifting the lid, he was surprised to find not one, but two scrolls in the box. Setting it down gingerly on a nearby table, Ichigo reached in, grabbed one of the scrolls and unrolled it, holding it up to the light.

"What the…?"

It was a portrait, drawn in meticulous detail and featuring seven people. One was clearly a younger-looking version of his father, smiling jovially. One of his arms was draped over the woman standing next to him, who looked like a much younger and quite embarrassed version of Captain Unohana. The figure that caught Ichigo's attention the most, however, was the one standing in the row above his father, right over Isshin's left shoulder.

It might as well have been Ichigo's twin, the resemblance between him and this mystery man was so strong. Almost everything about their faces was the same, from structure to eye-color to the unruly orange hair that rested on top of his head and almost came down over his eyes. The only differences were a long scar that ran down the right side of his face and the cold, calculating look in his eyes that froze any warmth from his gaze.

Getting over his shock long enough to reach in and grab the other scroll, Ichigo hastily unrolled it and began to read.

"Ichigo," it began, clearly in his father's cramped handwriting, "if you're reading this, then I'm a dead man. Hopefully your eyes won't pass over these words for many years yet, but the Kurosaki name is a cursed one, so I wouldn't be surprised if this falls into your hands sooner than either of us would have wanted. But the fact that I'm dead isn't what's important. What matters is _who_ killed me, Ichigo.

"That man was the one you see over my shoulder in that portrait; my brother. His name is Kago Kurosaki, but you probably know him as Sosuke Aizen."

Ichigo wasn't sure how long he went without drawing a breath as the words he had just read sunk into his head, but when air rushed into his lungs again it seared like flames.

"My brother, your uncle," the words continued, "was not born as the man you now know, the murderer hiding behind a different face. He was a killer, true, but not without principles. As a member of the Royal Guard, he was one of the greatest Soul Reapers to ever live. But then the day came that he discovered an Arrancar on an expedition into Hueco Mundo, and everything changed.

"Kago became convinced that, were Hollows able to regain some of their lost humanity through transformation into Arrancar, there would be no more need for an endless war. A treaty could be drawn up between Hollow and Soul Reaper, and the bloodshed would be able to cease.

"There were none, however, who shared in my brother's decidedly optimistic vision. The Spirit King called upon Kago to recant his words, but he was far too stubborn to let his solution to the problem of conflict be put down. He even went as far as to begin conducting research into warping and weakening the barrier between Hollow and Soul Reaper, and that was the final straw.

"A few days later, the order came down from the King to exterminate my brother, on a charge of high treason. I insisted that I be allowed to confront him, as I thought it was my fault he had strayed so far from the path; I had failed him both as a fellow Soul Reaper, and as a brother.

"I approached Kago and tried to get him to listen to reason, but he was adamant. The lives of the Soul Reapers that his actions would save, he claimed, were too precious to put at risk because of nothing more than baseless ignorance. These new Arrancar, he said, would be rational beings, devoid of the primal drive to consume souls that plagued all Hollows. We would be able to reason with them, and find a compromise to the endless strife.

"I will admit that I was tempted by the proposal, and strongly so. Despite our existence as a group of elite soldiers, none of us in the Royal Guard enjoyed war. It was a gruesome, costly thing, something that left nothing but the corpses of the dead and the scarred living in its wake. But at the same time, I could not abide the thought of giving Hollows, our sworn enemies, access to such immense power. It was a perversion of nature, not to mention incredibly risky.

"And so we fought, my brother Kago and I. The duel was long and brutal, but in the end I was the one who triumphed. Kyoka Suigetsu lay on the ground in two pieces, and my brother had fallen.

"Or so I had thought at the time, anyway. My killing blow had been off by mere centimeters; perhaps I had genuinely missed, or perhaps compassion skewed my sword, but either way I would remain ignorant of my brother's survival for a long time. I resigned from the Guard, something no one else had ever done before, in an attempt to escape the guilt of my fratricide. The Captain of the Guard, Yamamoto, decreed that a seal would be placed on my powers, rendering me human, only to be lifted when I proved myself worthy of wielding those powers once more.

"I had always entertained the possibility that my brother had survived our duel; whether this was out of fear or hope, even I wasn't sure. But it wasn't until several years later that I found out for certain. I was living in a remote village, as far away from Hollows as I could be, when a young man happened upon my house and asked for a place to stay. I let him in, and we began to talk; he said his name was Sosuke Aizen.

"It became clear to me after a few minutes of conversation who I was really talking to, though, and I told my brother to drop the charade. He told me that he had gone into deep cover after his 'assassination', changing his appearance and totally masking his true powers with the help of his infernal zanpakuto, Kyoka Suigetsu. I was powerless, and could do nothing to stop him, so I let him go.

"We both knew that the Royal Guard would never believe me if I told them the truth, not to mention that I was too proud at the time to let them know I had failed in my sworn duty. So the name of Koga Kurosaki became forbidden, and I was forced to live with the burden of the knowledge that my ultimate failure would come back to haunt countless people. I could see in Koga's eyes that the idealism he had held in the past was gone, replaced by bitter hatred; the only way he knew now to bring his vision of a unified future to fulfillment was through bloody conquest and war. He would force Soul Society to accept his will, or die trying.

"Which brings us back to the present, and these pathetic words scrawled out on fading parchment by a dead man who did nothing in life except be a horrible brother and an equally lousy father. I have but one thing left to say to you, Ichigo, and that is this: I know you better than you give me credit for, and I know how you must feel right now. But whatever you do, _do not_ go after Aizen. We both know that he is counting on you to do just that, and that man has been playing the puppeteer for long enough already.

"Ichigo, know that I love you and that I'm proud of you, and that I am sorry I wasn't strong enough to save your mother on the day that she left us. I can only hope that you will succeed where I have failed, my son."

The black ink trailed off there, signaling the end of the letter. Ichigo stared at it for a few more moments in silence, before the soft tapping sound of his tears falling on the page jolted him back to the present. Blinking the rest of them away, the young Kurosaki focused reiatsu into his hands and burned the piece of parchment away, before rolling the portrait up and tucking it inside of his robes.

"Well?" Kisuke's voice broke in. "What did it say?"

"Nothing," Ichigo replied evenly as he walked out the door and prepared to flash-step away.

"Nothing at all."

* * *

The orange-haired Soul Reaper reappeared by his house to find Grimmjow, Neliel, Ulquiorra and Rukia still waiting there for him. He smiled enigmatically as he looked over the faces of the former Third and Fourth Espada, knowing that _they_ were the kind of Arrancar Aizen had envisioned all those years ago. Sosuke was too militant, too far-gone from his original self now to accept any outcome short of the total annihilation of Soul Society and the Spirit King's elite. Perhaps _he_ could change things, though. Maybe _he_, Ichigo, could make the Soul Reapers see that peace was, in fact, possible. But for that to happen, one thing was inescapably clear:

Aizen had to die. And Ichigo wasn't strong enough to face down all of Hueco Mundo on his own, but that didn't matter. He was the only one who could avenge his father, and even if someone else had offered to go with him, he would have turned them down.

"Ichigo?" Rukia asked, snapping Kurosaki out of his thoughts. "What is it? What's wrong?"

"Nothing's wrong, Rukia," he answered calmly while opening a _garganta_ with a gesture. "There's just something I have to take care of, that's all."

Kuchiki put two and two together instantly, and her eyes widened when she realized what her idiot was planning to do.

"Don't tell me you're going to go face him alone, Ichigo," she said, trying to keep her tone from sounding too desperate. "That's suicide! Don't do this," she continued as Ichigo stepped through into the inky blackness. "You promised me you wouldn't do something this stupid again, remember? You _promised_!"

"It's the only way, Rukia," he answered tonelessly, and Rukia felt her heart crash into her stomach with a dull _thud_. As she watched her loved one pass into the void with increasing panic, Kuchiki resorted to the one method she had left to keep Ichigo from getting himself killed.

"_Bakudo number 61: Rikujo—_"

She never finished the words; Ichigo flashed behind her and knocked her out with a quick blow to the back of her neck, catching Rukia as she fell and laying her gently on the grass.

"I'm sorry," he whispered to her unconscious form, before rising to his feet once again and sighing.

"Take care of her for me, you guys," he said, and with a flash, he had passed through the _garganta_ once again and pulled it closed with a shrill whine.

"It was nice knowing you, Kurosaki," Grimmjow spoke after a moment. "And for your sake, I hope you don't survive this. Because if you come back here alive," the Arrancar finished, looking down at Rukia, "she's going to kill you herself."

* * *

Ichigo decided to save himself some time and opened his _garganta's_ exit right in the throne room of Las Noches, stepping out to find himself looking into the eyes of the man he now knew to be the only other surviving Kurosaki.

"Hello, Ichigo," Aizen said, smoothly as ever. "To be honest, I expected you a little sooner than this."

"I had to read over my dad's last letter, get some facts straight," Ichigo replied with matching casualness, as if the two men were alone in the room and not separated by the remaining members of the Espada.

"Oh?" Sosuke parried, raising an eyebrow. "And what facts were those?"

"The truth," the younger warrior answered simply, and Aizen smiled.

"So I assume, Ichigo," the traitorous Soul Reaper said with amusement, "that you are here for my head."

Ichigo nodded once, drawing his zanpakuto from his back as he did so.

"If you had asked me to join you back then, I might have said yes. But now, all you've done is destroy your own vision. If there's going to be any peace between Soul Society and Hueco Mundo at all, you have to die."

Aizen's smile widened as he rose from his chair, waving away the Espada who had risen to defend him.

"It seems that you are finally beginning to understand, Ichigo," Sosuke began, before vanishing from sight too quickly for Ichigo's eyes to follow.

"Let us see if you are truly fit to be my heir after all."

A searing pain shot through Ichigo's veins and he looked down, eyed widening as he saw the blade of Kyoka Suigetsu lodged in his chest.

"That was far easier than I thought it would be," Aizen mused as he dragged the blade upwards, carving a gash through Ichigo's abdomen and up to just below his sternum.

"But then again," he continued in a whisper as Ichigo gasped futilely for breath and only served to fill his lungs up with more blood, "we both knew how this was going to end, didn't we, little nephew? All you did by not blocking was save me some time."

Sosuke withdrew his sword and watched dispassionately as Ichigo's body fell to the ground with a crash, wiping the blood off of his blade before re-sheathing it and turning his attention back to the Espada.

"Now, where were we?"

* * *

Ichigo felt light, lighter than he ever had in his life. He was floating, floating away from the pain, far away. His memories were beginning to seep away from him; he could see them fading into the light like photographs and film clips of all the things he'd done, and some of the things he'd dreamed of doing. But he would never have a chance to do any of that now; he'd failed at killing Aizen, and failed miserably at that. Now he was going to be reborn as just another lost, lonely soul in Soul Society, out somewhere in the wasteland of the Rukongai.

"I really hoped you would've actually listened to me for once and not gone after him, but I guess I should've known better."

Ichigo was jolted back to clarity by the sound of the unexpected voice, and a second later he was brought even further away from the brink of unconsciousness by the feeling of a strong hand gripping his shoulder. Once he was anchored and his freefall towards oblivion had halted, for good Ichigo turned around to get a look at his rescuer. The younger Kurosaki's eyes widened in shock as he saw who had addressed him earlier, and had saved him from passing completely into Soul Society.

"Dad?!"

"The one and only," Isshin replied, flashing one of his signature grins before looking serious again. "I'd like to say that I didn't expect this to happen, Ichigo," the older Soul Reaper continued, "but I guess you have more of your uncle in you than I'd like to admit. Well," he finished with a sigh, opening up a dark blue portal in the midst of the sea of white light, "come on, let's get out of here. If you're really determined to defeat my brother, the least I can do is train you to become strong enough to actually pull it off.

"It's time for me to introduce you to some old partners of mine, Ichigo."

"But wait," Ichigo spoke hurriedly, his head still reeling from all of the events that had unfolded in the past half an hour. "I thought you were dead!"

"Me? Dead?" Isshin repeated incredulously. "Are you kidding me, boy? No, I just... got back to my roots, I guess you could say. And since I still have enough friends in high enough places, I got a seat back in my old crew."

"The Royal Guard?"

Isshin grinned.

"Finally, you start talking sense. We're gonna whip you into shape, Ichigo, whether you like it or not. Now let's get the hell out of here," he finished, pulling his son towards the blue portal. "This place gives me the creeps."

And with that, father and son passed through the gateway and into the realm of the Spirit King, home of the Royal Guard.

* * *

**A/N:** Three cheers for huge chunks of exposition; I hope that wasn't too boring to read. And in case any of you were curious, the chapter title comes from an old Chinese proverb: _"He who seeks vengeance must dig two graves... one for the enemy, and another for himself." _

Just one more chapter of set-up to go, and then the real fun starts. And in case it was unclear, the reason Isshin's still around is because when he was 'killed' by Aizen, he just made the transition from a half-spirit, half-corporeal being back into being a purely spiritual entity. And so Ichigo's found out the truth about his heritage, and now it's time for some serious training. Hope you enjoyed the chapter, and as always, **please review! **And as always, major props to **MatsuMama **for Beta'ing this, and also to **Philyra**.


	26. Phoenix

**Disclaimer: **I do not own Bleach, or any of its characters. Tite Kubo does. This story, however, is mine.

**Brief A/N: **Just to give you guys the heads-up, from here on out, I'm using 'Shinigami' instead of 'Soul Reaper', because A) it's faster to type one word rather than two, and B) Shinigami sounds cooler.

Now, on with the story!

**Torn**

**Chapter 26: **Phoenix

* * *

Ichigo had thought that there was nothing worse than having his father try to blindside him with a dropkick at 8:00 AM in the morning, but he was wrong.

Having his father try to blindside him at 8:00 AM in the morning with a _sword_ was much, much worse.

"What the hell is wrong with you, old man!?" Ichigo shouted as he dodged out of the way of the weapon with instinctive grace. "Don't you know what time it is?"

"Time waits for no man, my son," Isshin boomed as he brought his sword around for another attack, "and neither do I!"

"Remind me what the point of this is, again?" the younger Kurosaki barked, irritated, as he swerved out of the way of a strike that would have taken his head clean off.

"You need to learn how to focus your reiatsu, Ichigo!" Isshin replied far too energetically as his zanpakuto rose and fell again and again. "If your focus is always on dodging, you'll never be on the offensive. Think about your fight with the Kenpachi; did he dodge your first strike?"

"No, he stood there and took it like a brick wall," Ichigo admitted, beginning to see where his father was going with this. "But that's not a fair example! Zaraki's a fucking lunatic, and I'm not him!"

"So?" Isshin retorted, stopping his string of strikes for a moment. "What the hell does that matter, Ichigo? You have more raw reiatsu than most all the Captains in Soul Society, to say nothing of Zaraki. Learn to focus it, and you'll be able to take strikes head-on without flinching like a little bitch."

Ichigo sputtered in rage at the insult, and he almost didn't dodge the sword that grazed his chin, and would have cleaved his face in two if not for his battle-honed reflexes.

"Never let an opponent's taunts get under your skin, Ichigo," Isshin scolded, and Ichigo shot him a death glare while he wiped the small trickle of blood from his chin.

"Point taken," he said shortly while he caught his breath, taking his chance to reach out and grab his zanpakuto in case his father decided to try and chop his arms off next. "Any chance we can do something that _doesn't_ involve you trying to kill me, dad?"

"Well, since you seem to be in a lazy mood today, my boy, I guess we can take a break from the combat and focus on a different way for you to channel your reiatsu instead. It's time you figured out how to seal that zanpakuto of yours; looking at that oversized _shikai_ all the time is making me sick."

"What're you talking about, old man?" Ichigo shot back, bristling at the implication that Zangetsu was ugly. "Yoruichi-san said that my zanpakuto was a constant-release type, like Zaraki's. I _can't_ seal it, even if I tried to."

"Gods, what is it with you and Zaraki?" Isshin exhaled, stretching his back out and sighing. "Look, Ichigo: saying that your zanpakuto is a 'constant-release type' is just another way of saying 'I'm a lazy twerp who can't control my reiatsu enough to seal my own zanpakuto'. Zaraki doesn't even try, but you're better than that."

Ichigo sat down on the floor of his room and leaned against the wall with a sigh, his giant, cleaver-shaped zanpakuto looming over him.

"All right, then," the orange-haired Shinigami conceded, "let's say you're right, and there is a way to seal my zanpakuto further than just its _shikai_. How would I do that?"

"Think about it, kid. If your zanpakuto is the physical manifestation of your power, it'll change its shape depending on how much control you exert over that power. The amount of reiatsu you have doesn't count for anything; my brother's got at least twice the reiatsu of a normal Captain, if not more, and he's perfectly capable of sealing his zanpakuto down to a sub-_shikai_ state. The sooner you learn to do the same, the sooner you'll be able to fight without expending unneeded energy."

Ichigo's eye twitched in irritation at the lengthy explanation that had managed to explain absolutely nothing, and he sprang to his feet with a growl.

"You still haven't told me how to do it, old man! Quit yapping and give me some tips!"

Isshin just shook his head lightly and chuckled, before turning around and walking towards the door.

"If you can't figure out how to do this, Ichigo," he said, "there's no point in continuing your training. I'm going to go eat some breakfast… feel free to join me when you've earned it."

The older Kurosaki flashed away with a whisper, leaving Ichigo to puzzle over this latest challenge on his own.

"Shit," he swore, foisting his gargantuan _shikai_ up and staring at the blade balefully. "How the hell am I supposed to do this? I can't control my reiatsu enough to do _kido_, let alone seal my zanpakuto! Stupid old man…"

"I hope you're not referring to me when you say that, Ichigo."

The orange-haired Shinigami's head snapped up at the voice, only to find his gaze locked on the corporeal form of his zanpakuto spirit, Zangetsu.

"As I have said before, Ichigo, I am willing to assist you in any way that I can. All you must do is trust in me, as I trust in you."

"How is this a lack of trust, Zangetsu?" Ichigo shot back. "I'm trying to make you smaller, not fight with you!"

"But you do not believe I can be sealed, Ichigo," the spirit parried, "and that lack of faith will defeat any efforts you undertake before they even begin."

The younger Kurosaki sighed at the latest dose of cryptic rhetoric from his zanpakuto spirit, but bit his tongue. Maybe the old man had a point, after all. He'd always treated sealing his zanpakuto even further as a blatant impossibility, and had never even entertained the idea. But if he thought of his zanpakuto as a mass of reiatsu, all he would have to do would be to condense that mass into a small enough shape to bring it out of _shikai_ and hold it there. Closing his eyes and passing into his spirit world, Ichigo opened them again to find himself standing on a sideways skyscraper.

When he took in what was in front of him, however, the Shinigami wanted to hurl himself off of said skyscraper. A gargantuan version of his _shikai_ loomed in front of him, stuck into the side of the building as well and so immense that it blotted out the sun.

"This is your raw power, Ichigo," Zangetsu's voice called out from behind him. "This is what you must learn to harness, and to seal. Once you are able to wield this blade, you will have accomplished the task."

Ichigo nodded once, setting his feet and focusing. There was no denying that he could feel a connection between his own innate power and the energy that the massive blade was giving off, the only question was if he could exert direct control over it. Trying to imagine the sword not as an actual sword, but as a solid mass of energy, Ichigo began to try and condense the seething colossus. What felt like an eternity passed with no visible results, and the Shinigami was fairly certain he was going to grind his teeth to dust at this rate before shrinking this thing a goddamn inch.

"This is bullshit…" he growled, breaking his stance and wiping his forehead angrily with the back of his hand. "How the fuck am I supposed to condense that thing? It's impossible!"

"Some would call the very situation you are in right now 'impossible', Ichigo," Zangetsu retorted smoothly. "Stop seeing the matter in such relative, defeatist terms. Think, for once, instead of rushing headlong at this problem."

Chastised, Ichigo bit back a snide remark and sat down, thinking about every possible way he knew to focus spiritual energy. The method Ganju had taught him to focus energy for _kido_ made no sense here, though, which brought him back to square one. After thinking about it for a bit longer, however, Kurosaki realized that he'd been approaching the problem from the wrong angle this entire time. If a zanpakuto was a reflection of its owner's power, then focusing the energy within himself would have the same effect as trying to compress the mammoth blade.

Assuming a meditative position, Ichigo exhaled slowly and tried to view his own reiatsu in much the same way he'd pictured the energy used for _kido_, except this time he stayed outside of the dark sphere rather than throwing himself into the middle of it. Once he was sure he could see all of it, the Shinigami started trying to make it smaller.

Maybe Zangetsu had been right after all, and that it _was_ all relative, because this dark sphere was shrinking fast and faster by the minute as Ichigo made it denser and denser in his head. Nonetheless, his roll came to a screeching halt soon enough, and it took Ichigo what felt like hours upon hours to finish compressing the energy to the point where he could hold it in both of his hands cupped together. The amount of power present was still immense, but there was no question that it had been well and truly tamed, and was now infinitely more controllable.

Smiling in satisfaction and letting himself exit from his Spirit World, Ichigo opened his eyes to discover that he was now holding a regular katana in his hands. The sheath was midnight-black, with a golden oval _tsuba_ acting as the guard. A single black tassel hung from the end of the hilt, an echo of his first, unnamed zanpakuto from what seemed like a whole lifetime ago. Sliding the weapon into its new resting place at his hip, Ichigo's smile widened as he vanished from the room to go eat some well-deserved breakfast.

* * *

When he followed his nose to where it told him food was being cooked, Ichigo was surprised to find that his father was nowhere in sight. Instead, a woman with long brown hair and warm blue eyes was sitting at a long table, eating some _katsudon_. She looked up when the younger Shinigami entered, flashing him a kind smile.

"You must be Ichigo, Isshin's son," she said. "I'm Kirio Hikifune. Please, have a seat."

Ichigo did so, but looked askew at the other Shinigami's choice of meal.

"Isn't it a bit early in the day for that sort of thing?" he asked, and Kirio just laughed.

"Early? Ichigo, it's already time for dinner."

"It is?" Kurosaki asked numbly as a plate of food was put in front of him, surprised that he'd lost that much time figuring out how to seal his zanpakuto. Too worn-out and hungry to think any more before eating something, though, Ichigo dug into the meal before him with abandon. A few minutes later he was done, sighing in contentment as he felt his lethargy easing away.

"So," Ichigo spoke after a moment, "how many of you are there in the Guard?"

"There are always seven of us," Kirio answered. "That number never changes. If one of us dies, another comes to take our place from the ranks of Soul Society. That's why I got brought up here, to replace a fallen Guardsman."

Ichigo nodded and remained quiet for a few more moments, but a question that had been gnawing at the back of his mind broke free and he spoke.

"So why doesn't the Royal Guard go down and deal with Aizen personally, if you're so powerful?"

"Because the Spirit King has enforced a doctrine of non-interference, Ichigo," Hikifune replied calmly as she rose from the table, beckoning for Kurosaki to follow her as she began to walk from the dining room.

"We are forbidden to engage in any conflict outside of the Spirit King's domain itself, in order to keep this dimension as secured as possible. That, and if we could always be counted on to intervene, the forces of Soul Society would grow soft. Captain Commander Yamamoto founded the Shinigami Academy specifically to let us focus on the King's protection, after all. Ah, here we are."

Ichigo looked up and his mouth dropped open slightly as he took in the vastness of the room he was now in. It seemed like multiple dojos had been combined into one; the younger Shinigami had no doubt that three whole divisions of the Gotei 13 could occupy this room and there would still be plenty of space left.

"Look alive, kid!" Kirio's voice called out from quite a few paces away, and Kurosaki looked over just in time to see a _shakkaho _racing right at his face. Dropping and rolling quickly out of the way, Ichigo had just enough time to breathe before a _soren sokatsui _arced towards him. Realizing at last that this was _kido_ training, Ichigo dodged the attacks and tried out a spell of his own. Holding out his hand with the fore- and middle-fingers extended, he focused his reiatsu and spoke.

"_Hado number 4: Byakurai!_"

The energy came to his fingertips much easier than it had in his training with Gin, but the end result was still a painful shock that ran along his arm all the way up to his shoulder, rather than a bolt of lightning screaming from his fingers. As Ichigo held his stunned arm against his chest and tried to force the pain away, Hikifune flashed next to him and placed her own hand gently on his bicep. A few seconds later she had corrected the reiatsu flow, easing the shock completely.

"At least you went for a low-level spell there, Ichigo," she commented. "Had you gone for something higher, we'd probably be picking pieces of your arm up off of the floor right now."

"Thanks for the reassurance," Kurosaki grumbled, smarting from his failure to pull off even one of the most basic destructive _kido_ spells. At this rate, he was never going to become strong enough to defeat the upper Espada, let alone Aizen. Kirio smiled again and spoke, her voice encouraging.

"Ichigo, if you were able to seal your zanpakuto, that means you have enough control over your reiatsu to be able to condense it and force it to maintain its shape. The trick to mastering _kido_ is to be able to let your contracted reiatsu expand, just enough to allow it to flow while simultaneously maintaining control over its direction. If you can do that, you should be able to eventually shape that loose reiatsu at will. That skill is the cornerstone of all _kido_."

Kurosaki's brown eyes narrowed in anger at the revelation: he had just learned to control his reiatsu, and now he was supposed to throw that out the window? Still, he thought with a sigh as he closed his eyes and slipped back into his Spirit World, it wasn't like he really had a choice.

The sphere of dark energy was still there, floating in midair and giving off a distinctly perturbed aura, as if it was pissed off that Ichigo had confined it into such a small space. After shaking off the fact that he'd just attributed human emotions to a sphere of pure energy and assuring himself that he wasn't going insane, Ichigo approached the condensed ball of reiatsu and reached out to it. He cautiously relaxed the barrier he had placed around it to keep the energy compacted, expecting some kind of gradual reaction as the energy began to flow freely once again.

Instead, the orb immediately expanded to five times its current size and slammed into Kurosaki's chest as it grew, throwing him backwards. After hauling himself up off of the ground and brushing off his robes, Ichigo angrily compressed the sphere of reiatsu and tried once more, only to be met with the same result again and again.

This was going to take a while.

* * *

What felt like hours later, Ichigo had finally managed to control the flow of reiatsu to the point that he could extract a limited amount from the sphere and mold it according to his will. At that point, though, the Shinigami was seriously considering cutting his own Soul Chain and Soul Sleep to just get rid of the annoying sphere that seemed to exist just to make his life miserable. Sighing and exiting from his Spirit World once again, Ichigo looked down and was pleased to find a baseball-sized sphere of raw _kido_ energy sitting in the palm of his hand.

"Not bad," Hikifune mused. "It usually takes rookies like you much longer to get to that point; I must admit I'm impressed. But don't go slacking off just yet, Ichigo… there's one more step before you can actually translate that raw energy into useable spells. You need to know the incantations."

"Can't I just bypass them like everyone else?" Ichigo shot back. "And besides, I never see any of them calling up pure energy like this before they cast their _kido_. It always just kinda… happens."

"You need to learn how to go through every step before you can start skipping them, kid," Kirio retorted, pulling out a thick book of incantations from within the folds of her robes and tossing it to Ichigo. "Now let's get to it; we have a lot of ground to cover. First we'll do the _bakudo_… those're less messy."

Ichigo smirked as the memory of Rukia locking his arms behind his back the night they first met flashed through his head. Finally, he would be able to return the favor.

* * *

"So, how's he doing?"

Kirio sighed, sipping gratefully on the cup of sake that Isshin had given her.

"He's as stubborn as you are, Isshin-san, that's for sure. He's stuck on _rikujokoro_, and refuses to let himself rest until he can bypass it."

"Sixty-one, eh?" the elder Kurosaki replied, chuckling. "That's my boy for ya. I couldn't get over Fourty for the longest damn time when I was starting out, and Ichigo's already at Sixty-one. He'll be on the _Hado_ in no time, at this rate."

"GOD DAMN IT ALL TO HELL!"

Ichigo's frustrated shout was so loud it caused the pair to wince, before Isshin recovered himself and smiled.

"Well, maybe a little longer than that…"

* * *

Ichigo eventually exhausted himself to the point where he collapsed and was carried to his room by two un-amused Guard members for some much-needed sleep, only to wake up infuriated that he had let himself pass out when he should have been able to keep going. Redoubling his efforts and using the newly-learned _hyapporankan_ in an unconventional way, Ichigo was able to physically barricade himself inside the room and refused to exit or let anyone else enter until he had finished learning _Bakudo number 99_. Isshin could have dissolved the _kido_ in a second if he thought it was needed, but he decided to respect his son's wishes and left him alone to train, only dropping by long enough to slide meals underneath the door.

Ichigo knew that quite some time had passed by the time he finally got a good grip on _Bakudo_, but the Spirit King's dimension made him feel the same way he had underneath Urahara-san's shop; there was a sense of timelessness, making it hard to pinpoint just how long the process had taken. Not that it mattered, though; he was willing to stay here and train as long as it took for him to become powerful enough to overcome Aizen. That was his duty now, his purpose, and he was going to see it through to the end no matter what.

Having figured out the way to channel the energy within him directly into the spells rather than first bringing its raw form into the physical world, Ichigo found himself climbing the ranks of the _Hado_ spells with ease. The thrill he felt after pulling off a flawless _sokatsui_ was quickly eclipsed by awe at the sheer power of _raikoho_. The young Kurosaki felt more than a little trepidation at the unadulterated murderous potential of _kurohitsugi_, understanding at long last why his Hollow had held it in such high esteem and praying that he never, ever wound up on the other side of those black walls.

By the time he had attained a reasonable level of proficiency with the final _Hado_, shuddering at the effect it would have on a living target, Ichigo was more than ready to sleep for a whole week.

His father, however, had other ideas in mind.

"It's time for you to show me what you've learned, boy!" he boomed, striding into the room holding a _haori_ identical to the one he was wearing. It was designed like a Captain's robe, but the symbol on the back was not of any Division's number. Instead a pair of crossed katana rested inside the black diamond, blades pointed outward and sitting just below a crown.

"This is the _haori_ of a member of the Royal Guard, Ichigo," Isshin explained, taking up a stance a few paces away and placing it on the ground next to him.

"It belonged to your uncle, as a matter of fact, who abandoned it when he went into his self-imposed exile. If you can get through me and claim it as your own, I'll consider your training complete and let you go back to the Human World. But until then, you're stuck here, and don't even think about trying to sneak out on me."

Ichigo smiled viciously, drawing his zanpakuto from the sheath at his hip and readying it for the duel, while his father did the same.

"I wouldn't dream of it, old man," he replied cockily, before the two warriors charged and clashed.

If Ichigo had thought that learning _kido_ had been annoying, that was looking downright _pleasurable_ compared to trying to get past his father. The man made the brick wall that was Kenpachi Zaraki look like Kon in comparison. Almost no strikes even made contact with his body, and those that did stopped cold. Even after switching into his Hollow-enhanced _bankai_ form, none of his attacks made Isshin so much as flinch. A barrage of multiple _cero_ beams at least made him give some ground, but the recoil left Ichigo so exhausted that all it took was a half-hearted kick to send him flying into the wall on the opposite side of the room.

"I gotta say, it's been a while since someone's made me budge, kid, and I ain't going easy on you. But you're nowhere near strong enough to get past me yet, and you're sweating like a pig. What have you been doing all the time you were supposedly training? Stop messing around and fight me!"

Ichigo snarled and shot to his feet, deciding to stick to what had worked and unleashing a horde of _bala_. Isshin stood his ground, but went as far as to use his sword in order to slash through the projectiles, rather than just batting them away with his hands like he had Ichigo's _kido_ attacks. When Ichigo realized what was going on, his black-and-yellow eyes narrowed in anger.

His father was testing him. All he was doing was trying to get Ichigo to hone his Hollow powers, rather than constantly leaning on his Shinigami abilities. It felt like everything he'd done lately had been nothing more than a test, and Ichigo was sick of it. Jacking his power up to as high as it could go and ignoring the fact that the man he was attacking was his own father, the younger Kurosaki slashed open his own palm and charged up a _gran rey cero_, letting the powerful attack fly. Isshin was ready for it, however, and blocked the attack with his zanpakuto.

Which is exactly what Ichigo had hoped he would do.

"_Getsuga Tensho!_"

The added power of Zangetsu's black energy wave was enough to force Isshin to jump to the side in order to evade the combined attack, and Ichigo dashed forward to triumphantly grab the _haori_ from the ground before it got scorched into oblivion.

"Well done, my son!" Isshin called out, sincere in his praise. "I have taught you the final lesson I had left to teach: You cannot see your enemies as who they might seem to be, only as what they are, and strike without hesitation. Otherwise my brother's illusions will ensnare you, not to mention that you might find it hard to go all-out against someone who looks exactly like you."

"Point taken," Ichigo replied seriously, relinquishing his _bankai_ and catching his breath. "So, can I go now?"

"If you want, sure," the elder Kurosaki said dismissively, shrugging his shoulders. "The exit's right over there," he continued, pointing towards a blue portal that had opened and begun to glow in the middle of the room. "But I bet you," he finished slyly, his mouth curving up into a smirk, "that you couldn't beat me in a duel if I was actually trying."

Ichigo froze in his path towards the rift, his desire to get back to Rukia and fervently apologizing for being such an idiot warring with his innate competitiveness and desire to be better than his father at anything that could be decided through brute strength. He considered taking Isshin up on the offer for a few moments before he chuckled, shook his head, and kept walking towards the portal.

"Sorry, old man," he said as he stepped through, fully shrugging on his new _haori_ as he did so, "but I have somewhere I need to be."

"I know, Ichigo," Isshin said proudly as the portal closed, leaving him alone in the room. "I know. Just remember who you're doing this for, and don't let my brother convince you otherwise."

* * *

Ichigo took in the smell of the air as he passed fully through into the Human World and smiled broadly:

He was back home.

And yet he still felt like something was off; that something wasn't quite right. Glancing over a man's shoulder at his watch, Ichigo saw the date and realization slammed into him like a brick to the back of the head.

It was June 17th. The day his mother had been murdered by Grand Fisher. Sighing as the memories that refused to leave him in peace festered in the back of his mind, Ichigo flashed away and headed towards the graveyard where his mother lay in eternal rest.

It shouldn't have shocked him to find three additional markers next to his mother's, as he had held the corpses of his other family members in his arms, but the actual sight of the other tombstones still made Ichigo feel nauseous.

"About damn time you showed up, brother."

Kurosaki spun around at the familiar voice, a harsh imitation of his own that could belong to only one person. Shiro stepped out slowly from the shadow of an oak tree and into the light, and Ichigo could tell immediately that he had changed. He looked much older now than when Ichigo had last seen him: his face was leaner, his eyes more detached and apathetic rather than holding their usual keen, focused and borderline-homicidal look.

"What happened to _you_?" Ichigo asked, his tone solicitous. "You look like hell."

"You have no idea, brother," Shiro said with a bitter chuckle, "you have no idea. You know, I kept telling them you would come back, but none of them ever believed me. They're gonna flip out when they see you, Ichigo."

"What do you mean?" Kurosaki asked slowly, the nausea in his stomach shifting and mutating into a totally different kind of fear. "What the hell are you talking about?"

Shiro looked at him cockeyed for more than a few heartbeats, before his eyes narrowed and he spoke.

"How long do you think you've been gone for, Ichigo?" he asked, and the Shinigami summed up a quick guess in his head.

"I dunno, maybe a little under three weeks, tops. What's going on, Shiro? Where's Rukia?!"

Rather than answer his question, the Hollow just threw his head back and laughed maniacally.

"Oh Gods, you have got to be fucking kidding me," he said after he calmed down a few moments later. "This is just too fucking perfect. Brother, you haven't been gone for twenty days," Shiro answered,

"You've been gone for twenty _years_."

* * *

……….

……………..

**A/N:** And so the good stuff finally begins in earnest next chapter! Hope you enjoyed this installment and that the training wasn't too boring, and as always, **please review!**

**A Few Things: **So you might be thinking, "But Jazz, if Isshin can open up a portal directly to the Spirit King's dimension, then why can't Aizen do the same?" Well, for one, it would make for a much less interesting story. Also, Aizen lost his connection with the Spirit King's Realm, and thus his ability to open those portals, when he 'died' and went into hiding.

**Also,** even though it seems at first glance like I've turned on God Mode as far as Ichigo is concerned, don't worry; just because he knows a ton of high-level techniques doesn't mean he'll be busting them out all at once, or that they won't still tire him out if used to excess. They're just there so that if he _does_ break out a high-level _Kido_ or what-have-you, it won't seem like a Deus-Ex-Machina.


	27. Ashes and Dust

**Torn**

**Chapter 27: **Ashes and Dust

* * *

He knew it was phenomenally stupid. He knew that she was a traitor, filth, the lowest of the low, and a freak of nature to boot. He knew that this was most likely a trap, and that the odds of making it out of this meeting unscathed were incredibly low.

And yet that didn't quell his need to see her one bit. His need to try and reach his oldest friend, the girl he knew was hidden beneath that blind loyalty, and beneath that perverse mask.

And so Toshiro Hitsugaya pushed against the cell door that she had unlocked a few hours previous, walked out of the enclosure and flashed away into the moonlit night. He made sure none of his imprisoned Shinigami comrades saw him go, and as he raced through the night his thoughts were a blur.

A few minutes later he was in Junrinan, his home from long ago, right on the border between Rukongai and the Seireitei. The place where she would be waiting for him.

"Hey, Shiro-chan."

Speak of the devil.

Sure enough, sitting on their old porch was none other than Momo, looking no different than she had before everything had gone straight to hell. Before Aizen had seduced her once and for all, and taken away the only person Hitsugaya had ever really thought of as his family for good. The sight made happiness swell up in his soul so fast it hurt, the pain making the young Captain aware of just how close he'd been to losing his control, to losing the upper hand in this little game they were playing. Love had no place in a contest of wills, Toshiro reminded himself harshly, and that was what this was.

Nothing more.

"I knew you would come," Hinamori spoke again after a moment, and Toshiro continued to struggle valiantly to stay in control of his roiling emotions.

"What do you want, Momo?" he asked acidly, and to his delight the young Captain saw flinty hardness emerge in his old friend's eyes for a moment before she quashed it, smiling with almost genuine nostalgia.

"I just wanted to see you again, Shiro-chan," she said softly, rising from her seated position and beginning to walk towards him. "It's been so long…"

"It was 15 years ago, Hinamori," Toshiro spat back harshly. "When you shoved your zanpakuto into Madarame's chest, and watched him die. Trust me; I haven't forgotten."

"And yet," Hinamori parried, her dark eyes much more calculating and hard than he ever remembered them being, "despite my known allegiance to Aizen-sama, you still came here tonight. So what does that say about _you_, Shiro-chan?"

Now forced to wrestle directly with the feelings he'd been hoping to keep locked away for good, Hitsugaya felt his iron resolve faltering.

"I thought…" he began, before realizing that he was being a totally delusional idiot and that the young woman in front of him would never again be the Momo that he had grown to care about so deeply. That Momo would never have willingly put blood on her hands, would never have betrayed Soul Society, and would never have betrayed _him_. She was forever warped, just like her twisted master. And it was about time, Toshiro realized with chilling frankness, that he accepted that.

But he couldn't toss away the years and years they had spent together so easily, either; memories of Momo running up the path to their house to greet him with the biggest smile on her face, or the nights that they'd spent just eating watermelons and talking about anything and everything warred with his common sense and were gaining ground by the moment.

His salvation came when those memories shifted into the first time Toshiro had heard her singing Aizen's praises, and the many months she'd spent afterward honing her skill in the hopes of becoming his Lieutenant. The sycophantic attitude, her idolization of Aizen, had made his heart ache just as fiercely then as the recollection was paining him now.

Of course, he couldn't think of that without his mind's eye looking back on the one night Momo had practiced _kendo_ for so many hours straight that her knuckles were left cracked and bleeding. Nor could he ignore tenderly treating those injuries, and the way her skin had felt underneath his touch. Or the way she had asked him then, so shyly, to work the knots out of the muscles in her back. His hands had moved with their usual assuredness, and Hinamori had grown bolder as her inhibitions had melted away with the tension in her muscles. Soon enough she had been all but sitting in his lap, her back pressed up against his chest as their lips pressed together gently in their first kiss, tentative at first, but growing deeper and deeper as they each realized what the other had come to mean to them.

But that was the past, not the present, and no amount of wishful thinking or longing was going to change that. Momo had clearly put him out of her heart, and it only made sense that he return the favor.

"I don't know what I was thinking," he finished tersely, turning around and beginning to walk away. The retreating Captain was soon stopped, however, by a delicate but deceptively strong hand wrapping itself around his wrist and pulling him backwards. Hitsugaya's natural reflexes spun his body around, sending him straight into the arms of Hinamori.

His lips were on hers before he knew what he was doing, and his carefully built-up self-control was lost as all of his hatred, self-loathing and disgust were swept up by elation, relief and love. Maybe, Toshiro thought as his _haori_ and kimono hit the ground, leaving his chest exposed to the night air, he'd done it. Maybe she'd decided to come back to him after all. The world began to move around Hitsugaya as Momo moved along with him in a series of gleeful spins back up the pathway and into the house, but he was too lost in the feeling of victory to do much more than follow where Hinamori led. Soon enough he felt his back press against the cool wood of their old house's wall, and the shock was enough to get him to break apart from the frenzied kiss. When he did so, though, rather than catch his breath, Toshiro felt what little air he had left squeezed from his lungs as his eyes fell upon the '8' tattooed just above Momo's left breast.

The number that signified her position amongst the Espada, Aizen's most elite group of killers. The number that stood as a physical reminder of how stupid Toshiro had been to think he could change her, a realization that sent the urge to run blazing along every nerve in his body. But a split second later, Toshiro felt blood seep into his lungs to fill the void left by the air. Looking down in horror, he saw _Tobiume_ lodged firmly in his stomach up to the guard.

The Captain had been pinned in place before he could have so much as twitched; years of being confined in that damn cell, with the bars made of pure _sekki-sekki_ rock, had dulled his reiatsu and edge considerably.

"If it's any consolation, Shiro-chan," Momo said after placing a lingering kiss on his lips, "I really am sorry that things had to end like this." She took a step back and slowly licked a few droplets of Toshiro's blood from her lower lip. "If you just hadn't been so stubborn," she continued insistently, "if you'd seen the light behind Aizen-sama's plan like I did, maybe…" here she trailed off, looking upon her old friend with pity, shaking her head. "But that doesn't matter now, anyway."

Closing her eyes, Hinamori concentrated and a white mask began to form over her face. When it had finished coalescing, she opened her eyes once more and Toshiro was sickened to find them the same yellow and black they had been during the skirmish all those years ago. The battle when she had made her defection known and all but single-handedly shifted the balance of power firmly to Aizen's army. Placing her forefinger against Toshiro's forehead, a swirl of crimson energy began to grow and intensify against his skin, the searing pain causing his eyes to roll back into his head in a final gesture of submission.

"_Cero._"

* * *

In the throne room of Las Noches, five of the ten seats reserved for the Espada were occupied as Aizen addressed his elite warriors.

"I know some of you must feel caged, my dear Espada," he began smoothly, "but rest assured, your stretch of inactivity will be coming to an end very soon."

"Does that mean we'll be able to crack some heads open, finally?" A blond-haired male Arrancar with cold blue eyes spoke up. "It's about damn time. Can't leave a job like that to the bottom five, especially with that _Sexta_ leading them," he finished pointedly, shooting a sidelong glance at the Espada sitting further up on the other side of the table. Rather than rise to the provocation, however, Stark just yawned tiredly.

"Last I checked, Ajax," another Espada spoke up, his burnished orange eyes narrowing in disdain, "you were the _Quinta_, and nothing more. Know your place."

"Fuck you, Saika," Ajax spat back, but a harsh reprimand like that from the _Tercera_ was enough to curb his tongue. Aizen simply watched the whole exchange with something approaching amusement, and continued a moment later.

"It appears that Ichigo Kurosaki, who I am sure you remember, Stark, has finally returned from his training with the Royal Guard."

This revelation was enough to rouse even Stark from his general apathy, although not by much.

"You knew he wasn't dead?" he asked, and the ruler of Las Noches smirked.

"Of course I knew," Aizen replied nonchalantly. "It was I who wanted him to be trained by the Guard from the very beginning. If he is to accomplish what I wish him to, after all, he must be strong enough for it. Ah, Momo," he continued, directing his gaze toward the door, "you've returned."

"Yes, Aizen-sama," the _Octava_ said deferentially as she walked into the room, holding a _haori_ in one hand. "The mission was a success. Toshiro Hitsugaya is dead."

"Are you sure?" Barragan Luisenbarn grunted patronizingly from his seat at the table. "You think we can take just that _haori_ as proof positive that the brat's dead? Your kind doesn't sever ties that easily."

Momo's expression seethed with repressed malice towards the _Cuarta_ Espada, but she said nothing.

"Barragan," Aizen spoke calmly, but with an undercurrent of force to his voice that would have sent most beings to their knees in an instant, "of all the people in this room, Hinamori is the one of whose loyalty I can be the surest."

Barragan bit his tongue, but it was clear by the look in his eyes that he still didn't trust the _Octava_, and probably never would. She was still a Shinigami, after all; even if she had a mask she could summon at will, Hinamori had no hole to go along with it. She was a sheep in wolf's clothing, and Luisenbarn could not abide such a gross perversion of the title Espada.

"You were saying, Aizen-sama," a female Arrancar with jet black hair and calculating green eyes broke in, "that Ichigo Kurosaki has returned?"

Four of the top five Espada had never seen Ichigo in person, but they had heard no small number of stories about him. Chief among them was that he was a traitor who had managed to sway two of the original Espada into defecting from the ranks of Las Noches, and was not to be underestimated.

"Yes, of course," Sosuke resumed his previous thought, giving the green-eyed Espada a glance. "Thank you for reminding me, Eris. Yes, Ichigo has returned to the Human World, and has traveled from there into Soul Society. I have no doubt that your brothers and sisters currently securing the Seireitei will come into contact with him shortly."

"And so you wish for us to go and assist them, Aizen-sama?" Saika asked speculatively, but Sosuke shook his head.

"No, I do not. Not yet. The Espada must all prove that they are worthy of the title, and the lower ranks are no exception to that constant. You will step in when I deem it necessary, and only then. I simply wanted to make sure you were all informed of the situation. This meeting is over."

The assembled Espada nodded, stood and vanished; all save Momo. Hinamori walked forward and offered the _haori_ to Aizen, but he shook his head.

"Keep it," the Shinigami told her. "I'm proud of you, Momo."

Hinamori smiled brightly at the compliment, all of the confidence that had been shaken by Barragan's insinuation firmly back in place.

"Now, I believe you have somewhere to be?" Sosuke prompted, and Hinamori nodded sharply before vanishing in a whisper of _shunpo_. When he was alone once again, Aizen rose and flashed away towards the room that housed Las Noches' most valuable prisoner.

* * *

Shuhei Hisagi's deep reserve of calm wasn't shaken by many things; Matsumoto holding two jugs of sake and hitting him with a 'come hither' look and a serious Captain Unohana topped that short list.

But as the tattooed Shinigami found himself staring right into the eyes of Halibel, the _Sexta_ Espada, Hisagi realized he was going to have to add another item to his list.

"You're alone," the Arrancar said calmly, walking down the desolate street in the Rukongai towards her prey. "Good. This shouldn't take long, don't worry."

"You sound quite sure of yourself, Arrancar," Shuhei said with equal evenness, drawing Kazeshini from his sheath.

"You served under Kaname Tosen, did you not?" Halibel asked, going right for the jugular. "As I said, this shouldn't take long."

The shift in Hisagi's demeanor was a subtle one, but the Espada's keen eyes caught the wrath simmering in his expression as plain as day. The Shinigami disappeared in a flash, and Halibel simply stuck out her hand to block the blade as it struck.

"I will give you one chance to surrender," she said with something oddly close to concern. "If you do, I promise your end will be swift. If you are intent on fighting me, however, I cannot promise such mercy."

Shuhei didn't give the offer a reply, instead disappearing once again and appearing behind the Arrancar. Halibel didn't even flinch as the blade made contact with her neck; thanks to her _hierro_, she hadn't even felt the blow. Sticking her hand out behind her, the Espada fired off a quick _bala_ that sent Hisagi flying backwards. As she turned and walked towards the prone body of her foolish opponent, preparing to finish him off, a chuckle from behind her stopped Halibel in her tracks.

"You're seriously wasting your time with _him_, _Tercera_? Oh, I'm sorry," Jaegerjaques appended with vicious amusement,

"It's _Sexta_ now, isn't it?"

"Watch your tongue, Grimmjow," the Espada said with a steely tone as she turned back around, regarding the new arrival sharply. "Even if your rank then and my rank now are the same, that says nothing about the gap between our powers."

"But it says everything about the people who knocked you from your perch as _Seguenda_, Halibel. Don't tell me you're losing your touch; no wonder Stark can't even bear to be around you anymore."

Pantera was drawn just in time to clash with the short, oddly shaped and hollowed-out blade that was _Tiburón_, Halibel's zanpakuto.

"Made you angry, have I?" Grimmjow pressed, his grin jagged and his eyes searing with bloodlust. "Good. I thought it would take more than that for you to start fighting seriously."

The pair disappeared and reappeared again and again, their exchanges becoming more and more frenzied as the duel drew on.

"You've gotten slower, Halibel," Grimmjow said during a deadlock. "You need to stop letting the others do all of the heavy lifting for you, or you're just gonna get bumped off by Wonderweiss when he decides to steal your rank. You don't want to get shanked by a kid who can't even count to ten, do you?"

"Enough of this," Halibel said with a much sharper tone than normal. She pushed her sword down so that the tip was pointing at Grimmjow's chest, the hollow part of her blade beginning to glow with blue energy. "I will show you power that you could never hope to achieve in eons, Grimmjow Jaegerjaques. _Projectil Azul_."

The energy within the blade rushed towards the other Arrancar with the strength and force of a _Cero_, and only a quick jump backwards kept the former Espada from being blasted into oblivion. As it was, a huge gash ran down his chest and Halibel was grudgingly impressed that Grimmjow was able to keep his footing after being grazed by her attack.

"Not bad," he said, "not bad at all. Guess you still have some steel left in you after all. That's what I like to see, Halibel," he finished, placing his palm over his blade.

"It'll make this _much_ more fun. _Grind, Pantera_!"

All of Grimmjow's injuries vanished as he assumed his _resureccion_, and he immediately lunged at his opponent with renewed fervor. Halibel blocked the strike with her sword easily, but Jaegerjaques was glad to see her giving up the tiniest bit of ground as he pushed against the blade. Bringing up his other arm, Grimmjow bent it back at the elbow and primed five green darts, pointing them directly at Halibel's face.

Dust and gravel and the timbers of more than a few demolished houses flew up in the air in the wake of Grimmjow's attack, and when the debris cleared Jaegerjaques was greeted with a sight he hadn't seen in a long time.

Halibel's jacket had been slashed to shreds by his darts, and so the Espada standing a few paces away from him now had nothing covering her sizable mask fragment. While the lower portion of it was still intact, the top of the fragment had been shattered, leaving her face completely visible.

"It seems I have underestimated you after all, Grimmjow," the Espada said icily, shifting her sword and pointing it down at the ground in front of her. "That is a mistake I do not plan on repeating. _Attack, Tiburón_."

A torrent of water rushed out of nowhere and engulfed the _Sexta_ Espada, two massive plumes closing over her like a clamshell. When the water receded Grimmjow was faced with the imposing sight of Halibel's _resurrecion_, and the frightening power it held.

"Have any last words, Grimmjow?" she asked evenly, and the former Espada just smirked as he prepared himself for an even more intense duel, completely unperturbed by the huge sword at Halibel's side.

"Yeah, I do," he replied cockily, gathering reiatsu in the palm of his hand before charging once more.

"Don't blink."

* * *

-------------------

----------------------

**A/N:** I'm sorry this update took so long; summer classes are much more intense than I thought they would be.

Big ups to **JasoTheArtisan** for beta'ing the hell out of that first scene like a boss, even if he didn't wake his lazy ass up in time to beta the rest of it. He's still the man. Speaking of which, go and read his story **So**, and its sequel **Anonymous**, which are criminally under-reviewed considering how good they are. Do it. Read 'em, love 'em, and review 'em; you won't regret it.

Hope you enjoyed this chapter, and **please rev**—actually, no, screw that. Don't review this. Go read **So** and **Anonymous**, and review them instead. Seriously.


	28. Forsaken

**Torn**

**Chapter 28: **Forsaken

* * *

As much as he loved the increased power his _resurrecion _state gave him, right now Grimmjow would have given his left arm for a sword. His natural body armor gave him protection, of course, but going hand-to-hand with someone as powerful as Halibel, especially when she was wielding such a huge blade of her own, was not what Jaegerjaques considered 'fun' by any stretch of his imagination.

"I'm curious, Grimmjow," the _Sexta_ mused with infuriating casualness as her opponent dodged yet another string of her strikes, reducing what should have been mortal wounds to grazing blows. "You seem to be more cautious than normal. What's holding you back? Fear?"

"You wish," Jaegerjaques snarled, more pissed at the fact that he couldn't land a blow on this broad than he was that Halibel had picked up on his lack of a berserker's edge, the characteristic that had defined him so totally in his days as an Espada under Aizen. He had his reason for not fighting with as much heedless abandon as he'd used to, but he would die before saying what that reason was.

Leaping out of the way of a blast of water for what felt like the fortieth time, Grimmjow began to get really angry. Halibel was a rock: even if he forced her to move by using a particularly tenacious string of attacks, the woman barely had a scratch on her. He really hadn't wanted to have to break out his most powerful strike so soon into the contest, but Grimmjow knew he had to put Halibel on the defensive _somehow_ or there was no way he was going to survive this fight.

And dying here was most definitely not an option. Concentrating, Jaegerjaques began to divert a considerable amount of reiatsu down his arms and into his hands, preparing to use _Desgarrón_.

"Reap, _Kazeshini._"

The harsh sound of a blade screaming through the air broke Grimmjow's concentration, and the _Sexta_ Espada was forced to dodge in order to avoid the spinning, scythe-shaped weapon that shot past her, only to turn around and boomerang back to where it had come from. Both Arrancar stopped fighting long enough to look over and see a revived Shuhei Hisagi wielding his released zanpakuto, _Kazeshini_.

"You looked like you could use some backup, Jaegerjaques."

"Fuck you, Hisagi," Grimmjow spat back, and Shuhei just smirked. Years and years of fighting alongside each other in a daily struggle to stay alive had forged strong bonds between the survivors that had evaded capture by the Espada and their Fraccion, but Hisagi knew that Grimmjow would sooner put out his own eyes than thank someone for backup, especially if he'd needed it. Halibel paused her relentless onslaught at the reappearance of the pest she thought she'd squashed several minutes ago, irritated that this fight was going to take longer than she'd originally anticipated.

Still, the _Sexta_ thought as she focused herself to take on a two-pronged assault, the outcome of the duel would be the same, regardless of the number of opponents she faced. These two were nuisances, nothing more. Using a burst of _sonido_, Halibel decided to go after the weaker of her two opponents and appeared again behind Shuuhei. The Shinigami's eyes widened in shock as pain shot through his body, accompanied by an arc of blood erupting out of a slash that had been cut across his abdomen, leaving a line of red spread across the dirt as the upper half of Hisagi's body fell away from the lower.

"How sad," Halibel mused, "to meet such a pathetic end. And to think, my Fraccion holds you in such high esteem—"

"_Hado number 73: Soren Soukatsui!_"

The double-plume of blue flame lanced towards Halibel with terrifying speed and power, nearly blindsiding her and forcing the Espada to employ _sonido_ once again. Looking over in surprise, she saw a bare-chested Shuhei Hisagi standing there, holding his _shikai_ and still very much alive. A quick glance revealed that the 'body' she had carved in two had been nothing more than the Lieutenant's shirt, an illusion created by a very skilled usage of _shunpo_.

"Clever, boy," she said acerbically, "but this changes nothing. _La Gota_."

A cone of cutting, highly pressurized water shot out from Halibel's massive sword, and Hisagi flashed out of the attack's way mere seconds before he would have been reduced to a mass of gibbets. But his retreat was beside the point; the Lieutenant had done his job:

Creating an opening for his ally.

"_Desgarrón._"

The five razor-sharp bands of energy slammed into Halibel's sword, forcing her backwards. Grimmjow's attack ground hungrily against the giant blade, currently the only thing keeping _Desgarrón_ from its prey.

"_Hado number 63: Raikoho!_"

Halibel said nothing as the _kido_ spell slammed into her side; as the smoke from the impact cleared, the only signs that she'd been harmed at all by Hisagi's _Hado_ were some burn marks on the right side of her body and face. Her aquamarine eyes hardening with hatred, the _Sexta_ Espada decided to stop screwing around and end this fight, before she actually got injured. Pushing hard against the _Desgarrón_, Halibel forced the attack away and continued the arc of her sword, speaking as she did so.

"_Cero._"

The blast of pure energy sent Grimmjow off of his feet, the concussive force combining with the raw power to send him careening into unconsciousness, heavily burned and bleeding as his _resurrecion_ faded away around him. Hisagi managed to avoid the brunt of the _Cero_, but Halibel was watching him like a hawk and had an attack ready for the Lieutenant as soon as he landed from his jump.

"_Hirviendo._"

The burning torrent overwhelmed Shuhei and laid him out on the ground, the scent of sizzling flesh rising into the air. The _Sexta_ Espada walked slowly towards her prone prey, killing intent radiating from every pore.

"_Getsuga Tensho!_"

A gigantic wave of black and red energy roared through the ground in front of Halibel, creating a sizable fissure between her and her would-be victims.

But they weren't whom she was focusing on; not anymore.

Ichigo Kurosaki appeared with the faintest of whispers a moment later, his _haori_ flapping slightly in the wind as he sealed his _bankai_ and sheathed his blade, turning his steely gaze to rest on Halibel. Heartbeats passed like small eternities, until the Shinigami broke the silence with a word.

"Leave."

His voice was much more tempered, and much harder than the Espada had remembered it being, back when she had been _Seguenda_. If anything, it reminded her more of one of Aizen-sama's commands than the voice of an insecure, 15-year-old Shinigami. Still, mere bravado and blind confidence wouldn't be enough to make Halibel back down.

"I'm afraid that's an impossible request, Kurosaki," the _Sexta_ parried. "I don't know how you came back from that deathblow Aizen-sama gave you, nor do I particularly care. What I do know, however," she finished, brandishing her sword once more, "is that you will not leave here alive."

Ichigo just smiled, squaring up his stance and letting his reiatsu loose.

The resulting spiritual pressure was so immense, the spike so sudden, that Halibel felt herself suffocating in seconds. Gasping for air and wondering how the _hell_ this kid had become so insanely powerful, the Arrancar fell to her knees under the crushing weight of the reiatsu before crumbling even further, to her hands and knees. But then, as soon as it had come, the torrent of reiatsu receded.

"If you fight me here, Halibel," Kurosaki's words floated over to her coldly, "you're going to be the one that won't walk away." he continued, mimicking her earlier words. Halibel knew they carried real weight, but she rose to her feet anyway, unable to remain on her knees for a moment longer without losing her pride forever and irrevocably. Once she was on her feet again, the _Sexta_ Espada gave the warrior who had so utterly overpowered her a harsh glare.

"Are you going to kill me," she said venomously, "or suffer me to live with the burden of this indignation?"

"I have no intention of killing you, Arrancar," Ichigo replied calmly. "If I do that, who's going to carry the message back to the rest of the army?"

"I am not your messenger, boy," she answered. "Even though I may be of low rank, I still count myself a member of the Espada."

Ichigo disappeared in a flash of _shunpo_ with speed that Halibel's eyes couldn't follow, reappearing beside her.

"Do you still make that claim now, Halibel?" he asked, and she realized with belated horror that her sword-arm was lying on the ground, severed from her body.

"Have fun trying to retain your rank with one arm, and no weapon to give your _resurrecion_ any real force."

Numb and dumb with shock, the warrior said nothing for several heartbeats.

"You will pay for what you have done here," she said at last, her defeated voice taking on the tone of a grim prophecy. "Aizen-sama had crushed you once, and shall do so again."

"He will try," Ichigo replied matter-of-factly, before turning his attention to the two prone bodies that Halibel had been ready to finish off a few minutes earlier. Motioning to Shiro to take Hisagi, Kurosaki slung Grimmjow over his shoulder and vanished in a whisper of _shunpo_. Left alone in the desolated Rukongai alley, wounded, bleeding and permanently disfigured, Halibel released her _resurrecion_ and disappeared with a harsh buzz of _sonido_, swearing vengeance upon the man who had crippled her.

She would gaze upon the corpse of Ichigo Kurosaki before she passed from this world, even if it was the last thing she did.

* * *

Ichigo and Shiro stopped moving when they reached an alley that they were sure was deserted, and Ichigo set to work on healing Grimmjow and Shuhei's wounds. Channeling raw _kido _energy into the damaged areas, the Shinigami didn't even worry about converting the energy into the kind used specifically for healing. He needed to work fast, or these two might still risk dying from their wounds. While he worked, Shiro spoke up with a question that had been nagging at him ever since he'd seen his brother chop off Halibel's arm like nothing.

"What's gotten into you, Ichigo? That was pretty harsh, what you did back there."

Kurosaki chuckled darkly.

"The one who was telling me to just chop off her head calls me leaving Halibel alive 'harsh'? Give me a break."

"Leaving her alive with no arm, no honor, and no pride?" the Hollow pressed harshly. "I might be a Hollow, brother, but even I say that was a cruel move to pull. You should have at least killed her, put her out of her misery; there's a reason old wolves leave the pack and wander off into the wilderness to die in peace."

Ichigo said nothing, and Shiro just grunted disdainfully and turned away. Sometimes, he really couldn't stand that kid. A few more minutes and Kurosaki's job was finished, the two warriors rising shakily to their feet to look upon their saviors with confusion. Grimmjow locked eyes with Ichigo first, his expression unreadable as he struggled to reconcile the image in front of him with the knowledge that his friend was supposedly a corpse.

"What?" Ichigo asked with a smirk, puzzled by the Arrancar's silence. "I swoop in to save your ass _again_ and you can't even say 'thank you'?"

No sooner had the words left Ichigo's mouth than Grimmjow's fist collided hard with his face, sending the orange-haired Shinigami staggering backwards.

"What the hell was that for, Grimmjow?" he spat out, but Jaegerjaques' back was already to him as the blue-haired warrior stalked away before vanishing in a buzz of _sonido_. Hisagi fixed Kurosaki with a hard glare, his normally calm voice seething with barely-contained rage.

"Do you still think this is a game, kid?" he demanded. "Do you have any _idea_ what all of us have had to suffer through because you went off and died like a dog twenty years ago? And now you think you can just waltz back in here and everything will be fine again? Go fuck yourself."

Shuuhei was gone before Ichigo could so much as begin to reply, no doubt to follow where Grimmjow had led. Kurosaki stood silent for several moments, reeling from the unexpectedly harsh rebuke, until Shiro broke the awkward silence.

"You all right, brother?" he asked, and Ichigo shook his head a few times, closing his eyes tightly for a few seconds and opening them again before replying.

"I'll be fine," he answered plainly. "That wasn't what I was expecting at all, though. Come on," he finished, turning around and walking out of the alley.

"I want to go see the one person I _know_ won't tear my head off."

Shiro could only watch Kurosaki go and shake his head in disbelief. Like he seriously thought she _wouldn't_ give him the same kind of treatment?

* * *

As Aizen rounded the corner and began walking down the hallway where the prisoner's cell was located, he was met by a figure coming the other way. It was Eris, pushing a small cart of food before her.

"Aizen-sama," she said deferentially upon seeing him, nodding her head briefly in greeting. "I was about to give the prisoner her dinner, but if you would like to speak to her…"

"Oh, is it her meal-time already?" Sosuke asked easily, "I had forgotten. Please, feel free to deliver the food; I shall simply return later."

Before the Espada could ask if her master was sure, Aizen had already turned his back on her and begun walking away. Brushing it off, Eris walked a few more paces before turning into the large room that functioned as a cell of sorts for Las Noches' only Shinigami prisoner.

"I have brought your dinner, Unohana," the Espada announced calmly, and the woman looking out the window turned around at the sound of the voice, her blue eyes kind even in her current situation.

"Thank you, Eris," she said civilly, walking over to the cart and picking up the tray bearing her meal. She then sat down on a couch to eat, while the Espada remained where she was, waiting patiently. Her sharp green eyes observed the prisoner stoically, framed by bangs of jet-black hair. Her mask fragment, shaped like a crown of thorns, rested upon the top of her head and glinted bright in the pale moonlight, a stark contrast to the long hair flowing beneath it.

"Are you hungry?" Retsu asked a few minutes later, after she had sated her hunger and food still remained untouched on the plate. Eris simply shook her head, and Unohana's expression settled back into a calm façade that was capable of making all but the most intense thoughts imperceptible.

"May I ask you a question, Espada?" the Shinigami spoke after a few moments of silence, and Eris tacitly gave her consent.

"Why is it that you serve Aizen?"

The Arrancar was silent for several heartbeats, but when she spoke, her voice was as close to bitter as Retsu had ever heard it.

"Because I have no choice." Narrowing her eyes as she regarded the Shinigami, Eris continued a few heartbeats later. "You don't believe me, do you? You believe I serve him because I desire to do so."

"If you have no love for him, why did you accept the title of Espada?" Retsu pressed gently but insistently, not expecting the venomous reply she was about to receive in return. In all their years of conversation, the Arrancar had never been anything but calm. It seemed, however, that in finally asking the question she had wanted to know the answer to for so long, Unohana had struck a nerve.

"Is it really that simple for you Shinigami, to see us all as mindless drones?" Eris spat. "Aizen forced us into those breeding pens, and our only choice then was to fight or die. And once the chosen few of us stood victorious, there was nowhere to go but the Espada. Do not assume that we all follow Aizen out of a shared vision, Unohana."

Before Retsu could reply in her defense, a pulse of reiatsu emanated from the main room and both of the women stood still, trying to make sense of it.

"It looks like Halibel's arrived," the Arrancar said, "and she's wounded. Come, I believe it's time for you to earn your keep once more."

Retsu nodded but said nothing, and they hurried from the room.

* * *

"Where the fuck have you two been?"

Grimmjow brushed off Soi Fon's terse greeting and collapsed into a chair nestled in the corner of the room, the floorboards creaking as he walked over them. Hisagi walked wordlessly over to Matsumoto and took the jug of sake from beside her, taking a straight gulp of it before walking out of the room altogether.

"Shuu?" Matsumoto asked, looking at his tattered uniform with concern as she followed him out of the main room and towards their shared bedroom.

"Ran into Halibel," Jaegerjaques said after a few moments, and Soi Fon's eyes darkened further in anger.

"I thought you promised me you weren't going after anyone higher than the _Septima_, Grimmjow. Are you out of your mind?"

"Look, Hisagi's ass needed bailing out, and so I bailed him out. Simple as that."

"You stood up to Halibel and forced her to back off?" Soi Fon asked, skeptical, but Grimmjow just shook his head.

"It wasn't me," he said lowly. "It was Kurosaki."

"Shiro?" the Shinigami prompted, her voice cooling somewhat. "I knew he was strong, but—"

"No, not Shiro," Jaegerjaques corrected her. "It was Kurosaki. Ichigo Kurosaki."

"What!?" Soi Fon half-shouted, incredulous, but Grimmjow's expression didn't falter like it might have if he'd been lying. "Where is he, then? Why isn't he with you?"

"Hell if I know where that asshole went; I basically told him to go fuck himself."

"Why the _hell_ would you do that?!" she shouted. "Assuming you're not just going insane and Ichigo _is_ somehow alive, why would you turn around and tell him to get lost? Do you want us all to die, Grimmjow?!"

"Whatever," Jaegerjaques grunted back, before rising from his chair and sighing. "Where's Héctor?"

"Out back," Soi Fon answered, her expression shifting from angry to worried. "He had another outburst today, Grimmjow. They've been getting stronger, too; I don't know if I'll be able to hold him back again next time on my own."

"I'll go talk to him," the Arrancar said seriously, disappearing with a buzz. Soi Fon collapsed into the chair her lover had just vacated, putting both hands to her temples in a vain attempt to calm down. Everything was just so chaotic; was it too much to ask for one day in a week when they _weren't_ either fighting or running for their lives?

Grimmjow walked out into the medium-sized patch of dirt that served as a practice ground for their group of renegades, unable to keep from smiling as the sight of Héctor practicing his sword drills relentlessly played out in front of him.

"Hey, kid," he called out, "take a break for a minute."

The teenaged figure stopped his current swing instantly and sheathed his sword before turning to face Grimmjow, brilliant blue eyes simmering with tightly controlled energy while unruly black hair crowned his head. Giving a small smile, he jogged to within arms-length of Jaegerjaques and spoke.

"Hey, dad," he greeted. "What is it?" upon more careful study of his father's expression, Héctor's own face darkened. Before he could say anything, though, Grimmjow cut him off with a hand on his shoulder.

"Listen, Héctor," he began as reassuringly as he could, "you know I'm sorry you have to deal with this. And you know I would give anything so that you wouldn't have to. But there's nothing I can do to help you on this one; you have to learn how to control it yourself."

Héctor chuckled ruefully, shaking his head.

"Believe me when I say I've been trying, dad. It's just… I can't deal with something like this rationally! Maybe if you would let me go out and _fight_, for once, I could learn—" he began, only to have his father give him a look that told him to be quiet and brooked no arguing.

"There's a very good reason why we can't let you do that and you know it, kid."

"Why can't you and Mom just come out and say you think I'm weak?" Héctor half-snarled, frustration making itself known in his voice as the well of stoic patience he kept in reserve began to run dry.

"Because we don't," Jaegerjaques retorted. "Are you honestly saying you think we're keeping you here because we think you can't handle yourself in a fight? Don't be an idiot, Héctor; you could wipe the floor with Matsumoto on an off day, and we all know it. The reason we need to keep you a secret is because if the Espada knew you existed, they would use you to make us fold. They would find you, capture you and torture you until we agreed to give in, and then they'd probably kill you anyway."

The young warrior took a moment to reflect on what his father had just told him, before shutting his eyes tightly and groaning, his hands reflexively clutching his forehead.

"Shut up… shut up… _shut up!_" Héctor growled fiercely, and after a few more heartbeats he slowly relaxed, his eyes clouded as he gradually came back to reality. Grimmjow looked down at his son with a rare expression of sympathy, feeling beyond awful that his son had been born with this affliction, and had to suffer through it every day of his life. It was also due to his and Soi's carelessness that he'd been born into this war, and forced to mature at such a rapid pace just to survive.

"I know it must feel good to give in, to let it take the reins," Jaegerjaques said, "but the more you do that, the weaker you'll become."

"But if I don't let it out, it pushes me until I snap, and then Mom has to come in and calm me down! And if I ever did something to her, I—I don't know what I would do."

"Don't worry, kid," Grimmjow reassured him, "you won't. Now, enough of this shrink crap," he continued, shifting from a paternal tone back to his normal mode of speech. "You want to fight, huh? Let's go a round, then; show me what you got."

Héctor smiled broadly and flashed over to a few paces away, drawing his zanpakuto and squaring up a stance. Grimmjow did the same, and father and son were soon sparring energetically, their laughter at the rush of the mock duel mingling with the clashing of their swords.

Back inside the run-down house, Soi Fon's grim, exhausted frown slowly shifted into a relieved smile.

* * *

Stark stood at Aizen's right hand, filling in Gin's vacant spot and wondering why he had to come to every one of these meetings. All Ajax ever did was try to provoke him into a fight, Barragan hardly ever said anything, Eris usually timed her meal runs to coincide with the meetings so that she had an alibi and Saika pined quietly after Eris. Talk about a total waste of time.

He became a bit more optimistic when he felt Halibel's reiatsu appear nearby, but that emotion soon shifted into concern when he saw what kind of shape she was in. Her mask was a wreck, and she was missing an arm– her sword arm.

Hopefully, tonight Unohana would eat faster than she usually did.

"What the hell happened to you, _Sexta_?" Ajax jeered from his seat. "Don't tell me the Lieutenants are stronger than you now, too?"

"Aizen-sama," Halibel said stoically, completely ignoring the _Quinta_'s taunts, "I encountered Ichigo Kurosaki in Soul Society, and was unable to defeat him. I am willing to accept whatever punishment you deem necessary to give me, but I must request permission to by seen by Unoha—"

"Are you serious?" Ajax taunted again, rising from his seat as he spoke and moved towards Halibel. "You think she can fix _that_? Face it, woman; you're just fucked."

"Aizen-sama—" the _Sexta_ began again, only for her address to again be broken off, this time by the zing of steel being drawn from its sheath.

Ajax's zanpakuto had been brought out into the light.

Stark knew exactly how unhinged the _Quinta_ was, and that once his sword had been drawn he wasn't going to sheathe it again until it had drawn enough blood to satisfy its insane master. He began to move instinctively to assist Halibel, but felt a jolt of reiatsu lance down his back, shocking him. Looking over, he saw Aizen giving him a look that was a clear, absolute warning: Do _not_ interfere.

They both knew what was coming, and Aizen wanted to make sure that Stark would do nothing more than watch it.

And so Stark stayed still, striving to ignore the aching feeling in his chest and failing.

"See this, Halibel?" Ajax jeered, the claymore that was his zanpakuto gleaming in the light. "This is my zanpakuto. Why don't you show me yours? Go ahead," the _Quinta_ pressed maliciously, looking pointedly at the stump of her recently amputated limb, "draw it. Oh, that's _right_," he finished in a mock-epiphany, "you _can't_, because you lost your sword-arm! Face it, bitch," the Arrancar spoke, circling around behind her, "you're a wounded animal in the wild now, all alone. And do you know what happens to wounded animals, Halibel?" he said in a harsh whisper, close enough that the _Sexta_ could feel his rancid breath on her ear.

A second later pain blazed along every nerve in her body with blinding intensity. Halibel looked down, horrified, to see that the claymore had been run through her chest all the way up to the hilt, which pressed coldly against her exposed lower back.

"They get eaten."

The blade was withdrawn from her chest as quickly as it had been thrust in, and Halibel fell to her knees with a thud, still in shock. Her mouth was slightly open, her bright eyes growing dimmer by the second. She looked up at Stark with a mixture of confusion, pain, betrayal and vain pleading. Stark could only answer her with pained regret at his own weakness and inability to help her, their last moment of eye contact before Halibel crumpled to the ground, dead.

In that moment, Stark felt rage compel him to move so strongly it burned. He shifted his hand to his zanpakuto's hilt, but Aizen's voice stilled any further action.

"Do not thin our ranks any further through rash actions, Stark," his leader ordered. "We cannot afford to lose a healthy member of the Espada in an act of violence to avenge a crippled, useless Arrancar that had fallen far from grace."

Stark unclenched his hand from the hilt of his sword and sighed, doing his best to hide just how deeply Aizen's disrespectful words towards Halibel had stung him. Turning around, he walked out of the room without even looking back. As he turned the corner past the big double-doors that marked the entrance to the Throne Room, Stark saw Eris and Unohana hurrying towards him. They stopped when they saw the look on his face, but the Arrancar kept walking. As he brushed his shoulder against his fellow Espada's, he spoke in a detached, bitter tone.

"Too late."

He walked on, leaving the women to discover the cost of their tardiness themselves. And while he passed through the halls towards his quarters, Stark found himself drifting further and further into his memories of the dearly departed. Of the original Espada, only Ulquiorra and Halibel had been willing to approach Stark at all after he had finally decided to join Aizen's ranks, the others giving him a wide berth either because of his strength, aloofness or both.

But Ulquiorra would only approach him when official business was involved, which had left Halibel as the only Espada Stark had interacted with on any regular basis. Calm and taciturn, she had only spoken when she deemed it pertinent to do so, and her observations had always been worth the long stretches of quiet that had passed between them. And this had been just fine with Stark: after an afternoon of Lilinette jabbering away at him, having an intellectual conversation with one of the few beings he considered his equal had been most enjoyable.

He wondered, as he walked silently towards his room, whom he would talk to now. But really, when he thought about it with ruthless objectivity, he had let her die. He could have done something to at least _try_ to protect Halibel, but he had been too concerned with his own wellbeing to go to her. Each of them had always had the other's back before, but in the one instance it had really, truly mattered, he had failed her.

"Hey, Stark!" Lilinette greeted with her customary zeal as Stark walked wearily into his room at last. "Where've you been all day, you lazy…" Watching him trudge across the room even more detached than normal, she knew something was up. "Stark?" she asked solicitously, her tone shifting from aggravated to concerned when her Espada didn't even react to her jibes. "What's wrong?"

Stark laid down on his bed and stared up at the ceiling, wrestling with the finality of his words before gathering up enough willpower to make the admission.

"Halibel is dead, Lilinette."

The room was dead silent for several moments as the Fraccion was struck dumb.

"I'm sorry, Stark," she said sincerely, but the Espada was already sound asleep.

* * *

................

......................

**A/N: **I hope you enjoyed this chapter, as the story marches ever closer to its conclusion. Also, _GARGANTUAN_ ups go out to **JasoTheArtisan** for not only beta'ing this for me like a BOSS, but also taking the shit draft of this chapter I had beforehand and brainstorming it with me into something much, **much** more awesome. Also, props to him for being a generally awesome dude. Check out his stories; they're all legit. Especially **So **and **Anonymous**, which are both excellent. (Read **So** first, though)

**R.I.P** Halibel... you will be missed.


	29. Shattered

**Torn**

**Chapter 29**: Shattered

* * *

Gin Ichimaru considered himself an expert at breaking people down with little more than words. His mastery of psychological warfare was unrivaled, and he assumed that over the many years he'd been a Shinigami, his own mental defenses had been instinctively honed by his own tolerance for watching people crumble into whimpering wrecks in front of him.

But every time he stepped into the large chamber that used to house the Central 46, chills would lance down his spine without fail. Looking down upon the glazed, content and creepily-dreamlike expressions of the captive Captains set Gin's teeth on edge, his normally-unshakable smile faltering slightly at the eerie spectacle.

"What's wrong, Gin?" Aizen's smooth voice asked from behind him. "Don't you enjoy the show?"

Ichimaru turned fully to address the illusion standing behind him, the method his Captain used to communicate with him across the space that separated Las Noches from Soul Society.

"I gotta say, Captain Aizen," the wily Shinigami replied, "at this point, it's a bit much, even fer me. Why not just kill 'em already, an' put 'em out of their misery?"

"Ah, but Gin," Sosuke parried casually, his own smile widening, "therein lies the point. They're not miserable at all. In fact," he continued, his cold brown eyes gliding over the row of enraptured Shinigami,

"I dare say they are all, at this moment, happier than they have ever been in their lives."

In spite of his commander's confident words, Ichimaru still felt ill at ease. The plan Aizen had concocted to keep the Captains restrained was as brilliant as it was perverse: each of them had been placed under the power of Kyoka Suigetsu's Complete Hypnosis, and granted the vision of what they desired most in their hearts. Given no reason to even want to try and break free from the illusory zanpakuto's hold, the powerful Shinigami simply sat there, rotting slowly but surely as their most cherished dreams played out before their eyes. Only Toshiro had been given a reprieve from his imprisonment, and even then he had been murdered shortly afterwards in a final test of Momo's loyalty to the lord of Las Noches.

Urahara, Shihoin, Kuchiki, Komamura, Kyoraku, Ukitake and Kaien Shiba were all imprisoned, with the only empty cells being the one that had belonged to Hitsugaya and two others that had never been occupied. They had been constructed to house the most volatile Captains of them all, but after the so-called 'Immortal Man' had utterly refused to submit, Ajax, the _Quinta_ Espada, had lopped Kenpachi Zaraki's head clean off of his shoulders. Meanwhile, Aizen himself had personally ended the life of the second would-be prisoner, Captain-Commander Yamamoto.

"So, Captain," Ichimaru spoke at length, gratefully averting his eyes from the disturbing gallery of sublimely content faces, "what news?"

"It appears as though Ichigo has finally finished his training with the Royal Guard," Aizen continued casually, not worried in the slightest by the potential threat the young Kurosaki could now pose to his plans. "The time for the upper echelon of Espada to move once more will come soon enough, but until then I need you to ensure that the Espada under your supervision will be ready to mobilize whenever I give the order."

"Of course, Captain," Gin replied smoothly, before raising one eyebrow questioningly. "But what of Ichigo-kun?" he asked. "Couldn't he just wipe out the lower five Espada with nothin' more'n a flick of his wrist?"

"Ichigo will come to me soon enough, Gin," Sosuke parried, "and is none of your concern. Simply make sure your warriors are ready to hunt when I command them to do so. That is all."

Ichimaru nodded wordlessly, giving the captive Shinigami one last glace before turning around with a small sigh and issuing the call for a meeting. Momo arrived first, as usual, followed closely by Sun-Sun, Halibel's only surviving Fraccion. Szayel Aporro was next, then came a stoic Wonderweiss. Yammy's grumbling and obnoxiously loud, stomping footfalls announced his presence long before he trudged into the room, the 'one' of his tattoo covered up by his shirt sleeve to leave the true number of the _Cero_ Espada's rank visible.

"I was in the middle of a nap, Ichimaru," Rialgo huffed out, cracking his neck to the side. "This had better be good."

"Try to show some respect for once, Yammy," Hinamori half-hissed, and the brutish Arrancar looked over at her with a gleam in his eyes.

"You _sure_ you wanna be having this conversation, shrimp?" he rumbled threateningly as his hand moved to the hilt of his zanpakuto, but Momo didn't back down.

"Now, now, Yammy," Szayel broke in smoothly, "there's no need for violence here. Save it for the Shinigami rats scurrying about; I assume that is why you called us here, is it not, Commander Ichimaru?"

Gin's smile widened almost imperceptibly before he replied, breaking the tense silence that had befallen the room.

"Exactly, Szayel-kun. It looks like Ichigo-kun's finally back, an' Captain Aizen's about to give the order fer the final assault. But until the top five are called down here, he's gonna want you to be ready to move on command."

"Shit, like bringing those jokers down here'll change anything," Rialgo spat. "Aizen couldn't even make his own fucking Vasto Lorde; those force-fed slimeballs're all Adjuchas! I could take out all of these Shinigami scraps easy myself, Ichimaru!"

"Then I must be going blind," Momo spoke smugly, "because I don't think you've collected a single head yet, Yammy. Remind me why you're ranked as high as you are, again?"

"You little bitch—" the _Cero_ Espada began, his fists clenching, only for the quarreling pair to be hit by an overwhelming wave of reiatsu sent out by Gin.

"Enough'a yer bickerin'," he said evenly, making sure his message was understood before releasing his crushing hold on the pair of Espada. "I have some people t'go see, things t'do. Szayel-kun, you're in charge 'till I come back. If you don't hear from me by sunrise, go ahead and start huntin'."

"With pleasure, commander," Grantz answered with a bow, and Gin nodded once before walking from the room. Once outside of the building that had once housed the Central 46, Ichimaru flashed away in a burst of _shunpo_, hoping that his first mark would still be awake.

* * *

Shiro left Ichigo once the pair had made it to the house that the Hollow said Rukia was staying in, along with some of the other refugees; those same refugees were out scouting for any stray Arrancar or Hollow, and Shiro had flashed away to go assist them. And yet, even if some of the survivors were out on patrol, Ichigo could tell by the reiatsu emanating from inside the house that Rukia wasn't alone. Still, Kurosaki told himself firmly as he squared his shoulders, walked up to the door and pushed it open, he owed that midget an apology for running out on her; he _needed_ to tell her how he felt—

Of course, that wasn't going to be the easiest thing in the world with Renji in the room. The red-haired Shinigami was currently sitting across from Rukia at a table, and both their pairs of eyes snapped over to look at Ichigo as he entered. No one said a word for several moments, but when it was clear beyond a shadow of a doubt that the man standing before them was Ichigo Kurosaki, Renji's expression changed from shocked to something in between scornful and murderous.

"You—!" Abarai began, rising sharply from his chair as his clenched fists rested hard on the wood of the table, before another voice, much softer, yet much more resonant, cut him off.

"Renji, give us the room."

His brown eyes were confused as the Shinigami stared at Kuchiki, not knowing where she was going with this.

"Rukia…"

"Trust me, Renji," she continued, her voice becoming much harder and gaining an edge sharper than Zangetsu's.

"You're not going to want to be here for this."

Misgiving warred with a clear desire to have faith in Rukia across Renji's expression, but in the end he sighed, nodded, and walked out of the room without looking back. When they were alone at last, Rukia motioned wordlessly to the now-vacant seat across from her. Ichigo took it with equal silence, not quite sure what to say now despite his previous resolve to patch things up. For better or worse, however, it was Rukia who broke the silence.

"What are you doing here, Kurosaki?"

The flat, cold tone of her voice cut Ichigo deeply, the use of his last name burning like salt jammed into that freshly-opened wound.

"I wanted to apologize to you, Rukia," he spoke around the sudden dryness in his mouth. "What I did—"

"Was a complete and total betrayal of my trust," Kuchiki answered levelly, her piercing violet eyes fixing Ichigo with a look that made him feel three inches tall. "But since I doubt you came here to tear open those old scars, Kurosaki, I will ask you again: what are you doing here?"

"I already told you, damn it!" Ichigo snapped, his brown eyes flaring with frustration. "I wanted to apologize for running off and dying like a total moron, you stupid midget!"

"And you think that's going to fix things?" Rukia parried again, the hollow, hateful tone of her voice stifling Kurosaki's anger instantly. "You think you can just walk in here, say a few words and everything will okay again? Do you have any _idea_ what I went through when you left? When I woke up and you weren't there, when the days ticked by and you never came back? You promised me, Ichigo!" she continued harshly, her voice rising in strength but not in volume. "You _promised me_ that you would never leave me and run off to get yourself killed! You said that what we were sharing meant more to you than that, and I believed you!"

"Rukia—"

"Say my name again, and I don't care how strong you are; I swear to God that I will rip out your tongue."

Ichigo was speechless at the sharp, relentless and bitter tirade, and could only sit there, mute, while Rukia drew in a breath.

"You broke my heart, Ichigo; it's that simple. It took me years and years to claw my way back to some semblance of normalcy, and if you think I'm going to just turn around and trust you again because you managed to weasel your way back from the dead, I really don't know what to tell you. Just go, before I do something I might actually regret."

"Ru—"

"Get out."

Realizing that there was no point in staying to fight what was clearly a losing battle, Ichigo got up, gave the woman he'd fought so hard for one last apologetic look and walked out the door. Once she was sure she was completely alone, Rukia let her head drop down and she wept, her tears splashing pathetically onto the wood as the adrenaline and fury cut out from under her, leaving Kuchiki with nothing more than a hollow feeling in her chest, rather than any kind of vindication. She had thought closure would finally ease her pain, but Rukia knew that Ichigo's last look, and all of the promise it had held, would never leave her in peace.

Renji walked softly back into the room a few minutes later, his brow furrowing in worry as he saw Rukia slumped over the table. Her red, swollen eyes banished any shred of hope that the sleep she was experiencing was a peaceful one, and Abarai felt his chest clench at the sight of the woman he loved in such pain. Lifting her gently from the chair, Renji carried his best friend and closest companion in his arms out of the room, laying her down to rest on their bed and lying down beside her. As Rukia settled back against him and murmured contentedly, Abarai allowed himself a small, relieved smile.

* * *

Héctor was used to bouts of insomnia, but that didn't mean they weren't still annoying as hell. Fortunately a full moon was shining tonight, which provided more than enough light for some outdoor kendo practice with his zanpakuto.

Unfortunately, zanpakuto training was never done alone.

"_Don't you ever get tired of this, kid?"_

The pause before the sword's next rise and fall was minimal, but absolutely nothing escaped the keen eyes of the harsh voice's owner, and it pressed its advantage ruthlessly.

"_I mean, what's the fucking _point _of training so hard, if you never _use_ it for anything?"_

Héctor ignored the barbs and resumed his exercises without missing another beat, but his sword strokes were decidedly harsher than they had been just moments before. The blue-eyed warrior's inner demon stayed silent for several moments, allowing Héctor to simmer; the angrier he was, after all, the more fun this would be.

As he took a break from his routine to wipe the sweat from his brow, Héctor found his eyes drawn to the hills in the distance, on the very edge of the vast tract of land that made up the Rukongai. He'd always wanted to climb up to the top of one of them, just to see what it felt like to be somewhere open, and clean. He hated being caged in like this, and as much as he knew it was for his own good, Héctor had too much of his mother in him to enjoy being confined, and too much of his father to take it well when people told him what he could and couldn't do.

"_Then don't fucking listen to them, you pansy,"_ the Hollow broke in again, violently pulling the blue-eyed youth from his thoughts. _"Do what feels _right_. Go crack some goddamn skulls!"_

Héctor continued to block the voice out of his thoughts as best he could, but it was getting harder to ignore something that was so integrally a part of him. As the young warrior thought about his parents, and the sacrifices they had made to raise him how they had, his confidence was boosted and he swore he would make them proud of him by not running out and getting his head chopped off in a duel. Sweat was beginning to slick his grip on his sword, however, and his vision was beginning to tunnel as his anger finally trumped his self-control with a vengeance.

"_Do you have any idea who the hell your parents even _are_, kid!?"_ The Hollow belted back, the force of his voice dropping Héctor to his knees. _"Your father's a fucking _former Espada_, and your mother's job is to slit people's throats open! You going out and earning your stripes is _exactly_ what would make them happy, you idiot! And besides,"_ it finished, the voice dropping lower into a sly tone, _"D'you think they _aren't _ashamed that you were born? Your parents might be a few screws loose in the head, but they aren't stupid. You think they would've _willingly_ brought a bastard child kicking and screaming into a war-torn world? Face it, kid: you're a mistake, and that's that. Nothing you ever do is gonna make them proud, no matter how much they lie and say they are."_

"Shut the fuck up!" Héctor snarled, infuriated that he felt even a small part of his mind become paranoid that his Hollow might be right. If he could be swayed so easily by mere insinuation, it was only a matter of time before his inner demon subverted his will entirely and took over. And he couldn't let that happen, no matter what.

"_All the resolve in the world won't stop the inevitable, boy,"_ the Hollow retorted, his voice finally fading away. _"Fight it all you want, though; in the end, that just makes me stronger."_

As the back-and-forth between Héctor and his Hollow came to an end at last, the young warrior froze as he felt the unmistakable sensation that he was being watched.

"Can't sleep?" a light, almost airily mocking voice floated over to him from the shadows. "Neither can I."

Héctor snapped around, his sword held ready to strike while his eyes swept over the shadows, looking for the slightest hint of movement.

"Easy, kid, easy," the voice spoke out as its owner stepped out into the moonlight. It was a man with silver hair, eyes that were little more than slits and a mouth that was twisted into a grin Héctor found incredibly disconcerting.

"I ain't armed," he continued. "'Sides, I don't kill kids like you, don't worry. That'd make your parents real sad, I imagine, and I hate sad stories."

"Who are you?" the blue-eyed youth asked sharply. "Tell me now, before I cut up your vocal chords and you can't say anything, period."

"I'm Gin Ichimaru," the man said easily, and Héctor's eyes widened in surprise. "Yer Grimmjow-kun's kid, ain'tcha? Nice to meet ya, finally."

Héctor had heard of Gin Ichimaru, in the same way that children living in the Human World had heard of the Boogeyman. Stories of the shifty, fox-faced man's capacity for violence and capricious cruelty had etched themselves into the young warrior's mind, and now, confronted with the very image of that man, Héctor was caught off-guard despite his earlier bravado.

"Relax, will ya?" Gin said with a hint of exasperation in his tone. "I already told'ya, I'm not here to kill. Believe it or not, kid, I'm actually here'ta help you."

"What the hell are you talking about?" Héctor pressed, and Gin's smile curved at its edges.

"I know what you are, kid," he said slyly. "I can tell by your twisted reiatsu that you ain't no normal Shinigami; not by a long shot. You got a monster in ya, am I right?"

The mention of his condition put Héctor even further on edge, and Ichimaru continued quickly before the teenager could get a word in edgewise.

"There are others like you, kid. Did'ya know that?"

"What?" the young warrior breathed out in reply, still reeling slightly from the argument earlier with his inner monster, and now thrown even further off-balance by a wild surge of hope. "What do you mean, there are others like me?"

"What's it sound like I mean, kid?" Ichimaru shot back. "There're other people out there who've got your same problem. Go to the Human World, and you won't even have to worry about seeking 'em out—I'm sure they'll find you. I bet they might even teach ya how to control yerself, if you ask 'em real nicely."

Héctor felt his surge of hope grow, and was almost taken in completely by Ichimaru's words when he caught himself.

"How do I know I can trust you, Ichimaru?" he asked, and Gin shrugged.

"Ya don't," he replied easily, "but isn't it at least worth a shot, when the alternative is wakin' up one morning and finding your momma's blood all over your hands?"

Héctor was given pause once again by the insinuation that his worst nightmare could possibly come to pass if his Hollow was left unchecked; when he came back to himself, the warrior's sharp blue eyes burned with renewed purpose.

"Are you sure I'll be able to find these people?" he pressed. "If you're screwing with me, I'm going to make you regret it." Gin's smile didn't waver at all as he replied, despite the clear threat.

"Like I said, they'll probably find you," he former Captain spoke easily, ignoring Héctor's challenge as if it had never even been spoken. "Just hang around in Karakura Town long enough, and you'll meet 'em. But I'd get going now, if I were you; time's a-wastin'."

Héctor nodded tersely once, his eyes still sharp and wary for a few moments before he seemed to make up his mind. He then turned and used his zanpakuto to open a small gate to the Human World. Stepping resolutely through it, the young warrior moved through the space in between the dimensions and soon passed into the Human World, closing the rift behind him.

Gin chuckled as he felt another presence appear behind him just as Héctor's _senkaimon_ had closed, turning around slowly to face the new arrival.

"Did I wake you up, Rangiku?"

* * *

..........................................

.................................................

**A/N: **Whew, sorry for the loooong delay on this one-- Greek classes continue to grind on, and my Harddrive died not too long ago, so my laptop was in the shop for a bit. Big ups as usual to the one and only **JasoTheArtisan** for beta-ing this chapter like a true professional, and once again helping me beef up a few sections that might have been sub-par otherwise. Speaking of **Jaso**, you should all go read and review his story "**So**" if you haven't already; it's awesome. Once you've done so, read the sequel "**Anonymous**" and review that, too. It, too, is quality stuff.

And to pre-empt some of the shocked/angry messages I might be getting, let me just say that I'm trying to write these characters as real people, and there's no way Rukia would have been weak enough, considering her character, to just let Ichigo back into her life like nothing had happened. To me, this was the only way their reunion was going to play out.


	30. Red Dawn

**Torn**

**Chapter 30: **Red Dawn

* * *

Soi Fon snapped out of a dead sleep with a jolt, looking around sharply for the disturbance that had woken her up and finding nothing. Willing her panic down and letting her training supersede her emotions, the Shinigami glanced carefully around the small room and found no one else in it other than Grimmjow, who was lying next to her and snoring quite obnoxiously. She wanted to brush off her waking as nothing more than a jerk reflex honed by several years of living like prey, but something that coiled deep in Soi Fon's gut and refused to leave her in peace made her think that something was very, very wrong.

And shortly after doing a quick check of all the reiatsu signatures in the house, her onyx eyes widened as the mother's worst fear was realized: her son was missing.

Shooting to her feet and not even waiting to see if Grimmjow had stirred as well, the Shinigami darted out of the room and raced down the hall, turning sharply as she approached the doorway of Héctor's room. The person Soi Fon found sitting on the bed, though, eyes red and slightly swollen with weeping, was definitely not her child.

"Rangiku?" She asked, trying not to sound snappy as her anxiety began to be compounded by anger and irritation. "What the hell are you doing here? Where's Héctor?"

"It was Gin," Matsumoto replied horsely, her expression detached to the point where Soi Fon wasn't sure the Lieutenant knew who she was even talking to. "He was here. I saw him talking to Héctor, but by the time I got outside, the kid was gone, through a _senkaimon_. Gin, he… he told me…"

Soi Fon didn't stick around long enough to hear the rest of Rangiku's tale; she didn't have time to listen to what was undoubtedly going to be a sob story full of guilt and repressed self-loathing. Not when her son was off doing God-knew-what in the Human World, and at Gin Ichimaru's urging no less. As the burnt orange light of the morning sun began to filter through the dingy windows, Soi Fon hurried back to her room and began shaking Grimmjow fiercely.

"Grimmjow! Grimmjow, wake the hell up!"

Jaegerjaques opened his eyes lethargically at first, but as soon as he saw the depth of the urgency in Soi Fon's own gaze and knew that something was up, the Arrancar was fully alert.

"Héctor's gone, Grimmjow," Soi Fon said before Grimmjow could utter a word, and the sharp look in Jaegerjaques' blue eyes hardened at the news.

"What?" he asked seriously, putting his hands on Soi Fon's shoulders to steady her tightly-coiled frame. "Tell me what happened."

The dark-eyed Shinigami related the details she'd been given by Matsumoto, and by the end of them Grimmjow's look had bled from grave into flat-out murderous.

"Let's go," he said darkly, rising from the bed and throwing on his jacket while Soi Fon tossed him his zanpakuto. "If Ichimaru's still anywhere near us, I'm gonna tear him to shreds."

Soi Fon nodded in agreement and the pair moved swiftly out of the room, hurrying out of the house and into the open before vanishing. Locking on to the nearest unfamiliar reiatsu signature, they sped towards it as quickly as they could.

Who they found a few moments later, however, was not the enemy that the furious parents had been hoping to run into at all.

"Hello, Soi Fon," Momo said with acidic smoothness as she stalled the duo's progress with a wall of sheer reiatsu. "Looking for someone?"

Soi Fon's look of urgency became one of fury as she spied the drawn sword in Hinamori's hand; she had better things to do than take out the trash, but it didn't look like the worthless traitor blocking her path was just going to stand aside, either.

"Grimmjow," she said in a tone that brooked no arguing, even from him, "get going, and find Ichimaru. I'll handle her."

The blue-eyed Arrancar nodded shortly and vanished with a buzz, leaving the two women standing alone in the dusty street.

"You sound so confident, Soi Fon," Momo jibed, readying Tobiume for the impending duel as her opponent drew Suzumebachi from its sheath with a low hiss. "Don't disappoint me."

"Likewise," the former Captain said sharply as she lunged forward, expecting to bisect the traitorous Shinigami in a single swing. Soi Fon's eyes widened, however, when she found that she'd made contact with nothing but air.

"Strange," Momo's unnervingly calm voice mused from behind her as Soi Fon began to correct her momentum in mid-air, "I seem to remember you being faster than that. _Burst,_ Tobiume."

A fireball blasted outwards from the tip of Hinamori's zanpakuto, slamming into Soi Fon with enough force to level the surrounding buildings as it exploded.

Grimmjow felt the reverberation from the powerful attack behind him and slowed down for a few moments, before stoically squashing his concern and pressing onwards. Soi Fon had stayed behind specifically to buy him time, and he wasn't about to waste it.

Just as he had begun to hurry again, though, the former Espada was forced to juke quickly to the side to avoid a _bala _that had come within inches of tearing his head off. Stopping cold and looking around to see who his attacker had been, Jaegerjaques had to bite back a growl of mingled anger and frustration as he realized who had tried to kill him.

"First Zommari, and now _you_?" he grunted disdainfully as Wonderwice Margera looked at him blankly, before shifting his eyes to stare at the red energy surrounding his hand.

"This is fucking ridiculous," Grimmjow said as he powered up a _cero_ of his own, almost feeling bad that he was going to snuff out the life of a defenseless Arrancar. Still, it was the kid's fault for getting in his way. Letting the beam of red energy go, Jaegerjaques didn't even look back at what he was sure was a smoking pile of bones as he began to walk away.

"Where do you think you're going, Jaegerjaques?"

Grimmjow froze at the unexpected sound, his eyes widening slightly at first in surprise and then even further in pain as a _bala_ slammed into his back and he fell forward into the dirt, Wonderwice standing behind him with a hard look in his violet eyes as red energy crackled around his hand.

* * *

Hisagi knew that he had every right to storm into Héctor's room and give Matsumoto hell for the stunt she'd pulled last night, but in all honesty, he'd seen it coming. Shuuhei had known from the beginning of their supposedly no-strings-attached fling that Rangiku had more emotional scars than Zaraki Kenpachi had physical ones.

Still, that hadn't stopped him from becoming genuinely interested in the ever-optimistic Matsumoto, and it certainly hadn't lessened the sting when he'd woken up late the last night to find her disheveled, glassy-eyed, tear-streaked and smelling faintly of Gin Ichimaru. She'd uttered a rushed, broken apology when she had seen he was awake and dashed from the room, and it didn't take a genius to figure out what had happened. Gin had strolled back into her life just like he always had when they'd been younger, and he had preyed on every single one of the insecurities Hisagi had listened to Rangiku confess to him in the past in their quieter moments together. He could easily walk into the room she'd holed herself up in and say that none of it mattered, and that he couldn't care less about her tangled personal history with Gin. But Hisagi knew he wouldn't be able to let it go, deep down, and that nothing would be the same on her end, either, after what had happened last night.

Whatever he might have chosen to do eventually, however, Shuuhei found his thoughts concerning Rangiku harshly derailed as a pulse of hostile, Espada-level reiatsu reached him from outside the house. Springing to his feet, grabbing Kazeshini and hurrying outside, Hisagi didn't say a single word to Matsumoto as he found himself running beside her through the halls. He figured she already had enough on her mind, and the last thing she needed before fighting an Espada was to hear him jabber.

The two of them were standing opposite Szayel Aporro Grantz and Sun-Sun moments later, who had their zanpakuto drawn and were more than ready to fight.

"My my," Szayel said with his usual condescending tone, "So eager to die. Clearly these past years have taught you nothing, Shuuhei Hisagi."

"If you think you've seen everything I have, Espada," Hisagi parried evenly, "I'd be glad to prove you wrong."

The two Shinigami shared one last nod of encouragement before they used _shunpo_ to split up, reducing the risk of getting in the other's way while they fought. Shuuhei came to rest on the roof of a shack far from where he had been just a few moments ago, barely having enough time to catch his breath before Szayel appeared, perched on a nearby roof as well.

"What's the hurry, Shuuhei?" the Espada taunted. "So worried about losing that you needed to give yourself a little head-start?"

"Not at all," the Lieutenant replied smoothly. "I just hate keeping people waiting."

Grantz chuckled for a moment before vanishing in a burst of _sonido_. His speed was much greater than Hisagi had remembered it being in their previous encounter, something that told the Shinigami his Arrancar rival was being serious this time. Drawing his zanpakuto and blocking a strike that would have cleaved him in half otherwise, Shuuhei used the time the deadlock afforded him to his advantage, unfastening the weaponized choker from around his neck and jumping away just in time to avoid the ensuing explosion. As he turned around to survey the cloud of smoke, Hisagi's eyes narrowed when he saw and felt no sign of the Espada—

Only to have a brief burst of reiatsu stun him for long enough that his guard wavered ever-so-slightly, and the next thing Shuuhei knew he was looking down at Szayel's zanpakuto, which had been stabbed clean through his right lung.

"Do you know why I didn't carve you up into glorious little ribbons the last time we met, Shinigami?" Grantz's voice floated through the haze in Hisagi's head with infuriating smugness. "It's because we hadn't been ordered to crush you yet; Aizen-sama was waiting for something. But now, it's open season on you insects. Good for us," he finished, pulling the blade from his opponent and smiling as Hisagi slumped over down onto his knees and then down onto his stomach,

"So very, _very_ bad for you."

Waiting for a few moments to watch the blood begin to pool under Shuuhei before he sheathed his sword, Szayel couldn't keep a small frown from creasing the corner of his mouth.

"Such a shame, Shinigami. Our final battle together, and you couldn't even force me to release. I didn't have a chance to show you the true breadth of my abilities last we met, and now you will die a dog's death, never given the chance to witness the epitome of my genius."

The Espada was about to turn around and walk away when Hisagi's reiatsu spiked massively, his hand shooting out and grabbing Szayel's left ankle before yanking hard and throwing Grantz off-balance. As Szayel fell Shuuhei vanished in a burst of _shunpo_ and materialized behind his opponent, delivering a hard knee to the Arrancar's spine before he'd even hit the ground. As he skidded to a halt on another roof, Szayel turned around sharply to regard his enemy once again and could only wonder how he was still breathing after the wound Fornicaras had carved into his chest. Grantz's expression became suffused with shock, however, when he saw that the gruesome gash's bleeding had stopped completely. Hisagi stood upright, his only signs of fatigue being a slightly crouched back and labored breathing. It appeared as though his overall reiatsu had decreased, but Szayel realized that a substantial amount of it had been diverted to completely staunch his bleeding and to keep his wound from getting any worse.

The question, the Arrancar thought to himself with a smirk as his confidence surged back to the fore, was if the Shinigami could keep that up under pressure. Disappearing with the harsh buzz of _sonido_, Grantz emerged right in front of Shuuhei and thrust forward with his zanpakuto. The response was one he had been expecting, as the Shinigami calmly parried the blow and held strong as their swords crossed in another deadlock.

"Not bad, not bad," the Espada observed calmly, a hint of amusement in his tone as he leaned forward to the point where he could see his own reflection in Hisagi's eyes, "but how long can you hold out like this? Sooner or later I'm going to force you to attack. And once you pour reiatsu into your _shikai_, the floodgates will open back up on that wound of yours. Sooner or later, Shuuhei Hisagi, you are going to die by my hand."

"That might be true, Grantz," the Shinigami parried lowly, "but that doesn't change the fact that the last sight I'll be seeing is your corpse decomposing into spirit particles. _Reap_, Kazeshini!"

Szayel was forced backwards by the power of the release, but his expression stayed frozen in a lethal smile. He hadn't expected the stoic Shinigami to be so eager to dig his own grave, but Grantz wasn't about to question his luck. Now, all he had to do was outlast his enemy until the whelp bled out. Baring his teeth as he sharpened his grin predatorily, the Espada decided to follow Shuuhei's lead.

"_Sip_," he spoke, raising his sword up and preparing to swallow it, "Fornicaras."

Shuuhei braced himself as the Arrancar completed his release, knowing what to expect and slinging one of Kazeshini's blades into the mist directly where he knew one of Grantz's tentacles would be. Feeling the chain coil around the appendage, Hisagi allowed himself a small, victorious smirk. He could definitely win this, even in his wounded state.

"So predictable, Shuuhei."

The Shinigami felt himself get lifted off of his feet as the tentacle he had been about to sever pulled hard on the chain, yanking Hisagi right into his waiting opponent.

"Shit!" he swore, knowing what was about to happen and feeling powerless to stop it as one of Grantz's other tentacles came up to envelope him, suffocating the warrior and covering him in darkness.

* * *

Yumichika Ayasegawa was never, ever drinking again. Forcing the cheap swill down his throat all night to work up a decent buzz was one thing, but the fact that the rotgut alcohol had the temerity to kick him in the ass with a hangover the next morning was too much. Even if the bartender gave him free booze and he was pretty sure the old man's daughter wanted to screw his brains out, there was only so much the Shinigami was willing to take in pursuit of earthly pleasures. As soon as he got out of the winding labyrinth of streets and back to the run-down house his group of rebels called home, Yumichika was going to sleep for a solid week no matter how many curses Soi Fon threw his way.

"Yo, pretty-boy," a booming voice rung out that made Yumichika want to die on the spot for the headache it gave him. "Long time, no see."

Ayasegawa snapped out of his haze in a flash, his training in the brutal, take-no-prisoners Eleventh Division showing itself in force. Drawing his zanpakuto from its sheath, he faced his brutish opponent and smirked.

"I wish it had been longer, Yammy," he retorted without missing a beat. "I had no idea you were such a glutton for punishment; was the last thrashing I gave you too lenient?"

"Cut the shit, Shinigami," Rialgo snapped back in a tone that put Yumichika on edge instantly. Something was different about the Arrancar this time, without a doubt, even if he couldn't quite place what it was.

The Shinigami wasn't given very much time at all to think, though, as Yammy disappeared from view with a harsh buzz and the next thing Yumichika knew, he was flying through the air after a fist connected hard with his jaw.

_What the fuck was _that_?_ Ayasegawa thought, shocked, as he swiftly turned his momentum into a tight flip and righted himself, staying in the air. The hulking monstrosity had never moved that fast in any of the other clashes they'd had, to say nothing of the force behind his punch. Since when had the measly _Decima_ Espada been able to hit like Zaraki?

"If you have time ta think, pretty boy," a rumbling voice broke in from behind him, "you should be fightin' instead!"

This time Yumichika was quick enough to catch Yammy's fist on the blade of his zanpakuto, but if he'd been a split-second slower the Shinigami had no doubt that his brains would be splattered on the ground. As Rialgo's knuckles slid along Ruiro Kujaku's steel with an incredibly irritating grating noise, Yumichika decided to see if he could get any information out of his thick opponent during this brief pause.

"You're certainly moving quickly for someone of such an ungainly figure, Rialgo," he said as calmly as he could, the guard of his zanpakuto beginning to waver slightly. "Care to tell me your secret?"

"You think that really matters, pretty-boy?" Yammy said with a chuckle as his fist began to crackle with red energy. "All that counts is that I'm about to blast you into chunks!"

The Shinigami bolted away with a burst of _shunpo_ in order to get away from the _bala_, reappearing behind the Espada as the attack left a crater in the ground.

"_Hado number 33: Soukat—"_

"Too slow!"

Not even turning around, Rialgo raised his other fist up behind him and shot off another _bala_, this one finding its mark in Yumichika's sternum and sending him flying through a nearby house. Dazed, bleeding and feeling pain arc through his body as he tried to move shattered bones, Ayasegawa could only stare as his opponent strode calmly through the wreckage, stopping just in front of him and rearing back for a finishing blow.

"Don't worry, Shinigami," Yammy taunted. "I'll make sure your face is so beat up that they won't even know it's you."

As the Arrancar's fist raced downwards, Yumichika's lips curled up into a smirk as he tightened his shaky grip on his zanpakuto and spoke.

"_Split and deviate_, Ruiro Kujaku."

* * *

"You know, Shinigami," Sun-Sun said coolly as she cut through yet another gust of ash like it was nothing more than swatting an impertinent fly, "you could at least _try_ to make this interesting."

"Shut up," Rangiku spat, twisting out of the way of a lunging strike from the Arrancar's sai-shaped zanpakuto and raising her hand out in front of her.

"_Hado number 31: Shakkaho!_"

Sun-Sun didn't even flinch, grabbing the sphere of red energy in her hand and slinging it right back at its conjurer. Matsumoto spat up blood as the _kido_ slammed into her stomach, flying backwards and barely bracing herself against the side of a building rather than hurtling through it. Rangiku was tilted and she knew it, but the only thing she was going to get if she let her emotions continue to run rampant and distract her was a piece of cold steel lodged in her throat. Turning inwards and feeding on her anger rather than letting it claw away at her, the Shinigami focused and retaliated once more.

"_Growl, _Haineko!" she shouted, and for once her lazy zanpakuto didn't hold back, answering her call wholeheartedly and hurling forward a veritable wall of abrasive ash. Her mouth curled up into a fierce smirk as Matsumoto instinctively felt the attack ripping into the Arrancar's _hierro_-protected flesh, and she pressed the assault further by twisting the ash into a tight tornado in order to close off any possibility of escape.

"_This_ is what you call putting out an effort, Shinigami?"

Rangiku's eyes widened as she felt a surge of twisted reiatsu from within the core of the tornado, and a heartbeat later a beam of red _cero_ energy ripped the attack to shreds, barreling on to engulf her as well.

"_Bakudo number 39: Enkosen!"_

The golden shield strained against the force of the attack, and for a moment Matsumoto thought she was going to give out first. After she pushed one final time with all of the strength she could muster, though, the Lieutenant was relieved to feel both her barrier and the _cero_ mutually break down.

"Not bad for a stopgap measure, Shinigami," a soft, piercing voice spoke from right behind Rangiku as she struggled to stay upright, "but I must wonder how many more tricks you have like that up your sleeve."

Matsumoto whirled around just in time to dodge a stabbing sai strike and grabbed Sun-Sun's arm, using it to flip her over with the hopes of throwing her to the ground. But the Arrancar read the move perfectly, landing in a crouch and twisting her captured hand so that it faced directly at the Shinigami before firing off a _bala_. The Lieutenant was forced to relinquish her grip and evade with a burst of _shunpo_ in order to dodge what would have been a lethal blow, but she wasn't about to give Sun-Sun the advantage again.

"_Hado number 73: Soren Soukatsui!"_

The twin plumes of blue flame arced towards their target with deadly speed and strength, but the Arrancar faced down the barrage without flinching in the slightest.

"_Strangle her to death_, Anaconda."

The combined force of the _kido_ and the energy released by Sun-Sun's _resurreccion_ was enough to send Rangiku flying clean through a building and into a hard concrete wall, but she kept her wits about her long enough to roll sharply to the side, avoiding an attack from the now-released Arrancar that pounded a hole into the concrete rather than through Matsumoto's head. Sparing a quick look of disgust as her eyes swept over Sun-Sun's serpentine form, Matsumoto lashed out again with Haineko's ash storm in an attempt to force her enemy back onto the defensive.

"If this is really all you can do, Shinigami," the Arrancar said dismissively from behind the thick veil of ash,

"I should just end this here and now."

A sudden surge of reiatsu scattered Haineko's offensive like it was nothing, and this time Rangiku had no strength left to erect a barrier between her and the _cero_ that lanced forward to crush her.

* * *

"What's wrong, Soi Fon?" Hinamori jabbed in an irritatingly calm voice as the pair of warriors clashed in yet another deadlock, the multi-pronged blade of Tobiume grating determinedly against the black and gold steel of a released Suzumebachi. "You're holding back. It's unlike you."

Soi Fon said nothing as she leapt back out of the deadlock, growing more and more frustrated by her inability to snuff out Momo's life completely. A few _homonka_ crests stood out on Hinamori's skin like bull's-eyes, but no matter what angle Soi Fon tried, the assassin simply couldn't get in a second hit.

"Why don't you bring out your _bankai_?" Hinamori pressed as she readied her zanpakuto for another round of blows. "Show me your true power, Soi Fon, and then I might just show you mine. If you convince me you're worthy of seeing it, that is."

"You're still holding an ace up your sleeve, Momo?" her opponent scoffed, hoping that Hinamori would rise to the bait. "I doubt it. You only reached the rank of Lieutenant because that was where Aizen needed you; what could you possibly know of power?"

Rather than respond to the provocation by getting angry, however, Momo simply chuckled as a chilling smirk spread across her face.

"I know enough about power to have destroyed Toshiro Hitsugaya."

Soi Fon was taken aback by the certainty with which her opponent spoke, feeling something sink in her stomach.

"You're lying," she parried at last, far more weakly than she would have hoped, and Hinamori's smirk only widened.

"Am I?" she retorted, before a sudden spike in her reiatsu almost sent Soi Fon back a step.

"Let me show you that power, Soi Fon," she spoke as she raised her hand to her face and materialized a Hollow's mask, pulling it down and changing her eyes from a cold brown to a lethal black-and-gold.

"Let me show you why it is that Aizen-sama will stand over your corpses as the sun sets." Focusing her considerably augmented reiatsu, Momo used the energy to corrode and banish the black _homonka_ from her body as Soi Fon could only look on in shock.

"I will admit, it's been a long time since I've had an occasion to put on this mask," Hinamori mused, before disappearing in a flash of _shunpo_,

"So do please try to stay alive long enough for me to enjoy it, will you?"

Feeling a sharp burning sensation blazing along her right arm, Soi Fon glanced down and saw that the tendons controlling her dominant hand had been cut, Suzumebachi hanging limply by her side as her own lifeblood trickled down and dripped from the tip resting on her forefinger.

"That should at least make this less of a hassle," Momo spoke as her defiant opponent spun around to face her, despite being weaponless and wounded.

"Actually, on second thought," the traitor spoke, as much to herself as to her prey, "simply chopping you up would be no fun at all. I think I'll try this instead," she finished, holding out her right hand palm-up and speaking a single phrase.

"_Hado number 90: Kurohitsugi._"

There was no way for Soi Fon to stop the black walls from forming, and no way to resist the agony that seared through ever fiber of her being as the multitude of black spears ripped through her flesh.

* * *

…………..

………………

**A/N:** I'm not dead! Man, sorry that update took so long, but Greek had to wrap up, and boy was that final week a pain. And so the climax begins, at long last! Hope this chapter proved enjoyable, and please do **review** if it did. Also, this chapter contains something of my own spin on Wonderwice, as I was hoping Kubo would have him speak finally in this latest chapter, but it was not to be. So, once again, I find myself diverting from canon a bit.

Also, big ups once again to **JasoTheArtisan** for encouraging me to beef up these fights a bit, and improve the chapter overall. Go read and review his stories sometime; they're all quality.


	31. Kali Yuga

**Torn**

**Chapter 31: **Kali Yuga

* * *

Gin Ichimaru approached the figure standing on the small hill silently, knowing that he had to weigh his opening words very, very carefully or risk incurring the wrath of a teenager almost as strong as, if not as strong as, Sosuke Aizen.

"You're not going to help them," the silver-haired Shinigami asked, coming to a halt next to Ichigo and looking out over the horizon towards the battle, "are you?"

"They've made it abundantly clear that this isn't my fight anymore, Ichimaru," Kurosaki replied coldly, and Gin was taken aback for a moment by the steeliness in the younger warrior's voice.

"Then what is, Ichigo," Gin rebutted after a moment, "if not this?"

"Aizen."

The one word carried enough weight to say everything, and Ichimaru nodded shortly in acquiescence.

"And if they die?" he prodded one last time, red eyes narrowing. "You would be fine with that?"

Kurosaki said nothing for several moments, before closing his eyes, sighing, and tearing open a _garganta_ behind him with a wave of his hand.

"Like I said, Gin," Ichigo replied stonily, "she made it quite clear that this isn't my fight anymore."

Shaking his head shortly and admiring the unbelievable emotional ruthlessness of the broken-hearted, Ichimaru followed behind Ichigo as the pair stepped through the _garganta_ and began their trek towards Hueco Mundo, and the ruler of Las Noches.

* * *

Matsumoto watched the _cero_ of her Arrancar opponent barrel towards her with peaceful resignation. But then her mind's eye returned to the words Gin had spoken to her the night before as she felt the heat of Sun-Sun's attack get closer and closer, and bitter regret tainted her last moments of life…

"_Soten Kisshun!"_

The barrier was formed so close to Matsumoto that she felt it pressing against the tip of her nose, strong enough to stop the _cero_ dead in its tracks. Right after the _cero_ had been extinguished the glowing shield shattered, both predator and prey looking over to see who had interrupted the duel. Before Sun-Sun could strike out against Matsumoto's savior, however, another figure joined the fight as well.

"_Tsugi no Mai: Hakuren!"_

The massive wave of snow and ice surged forward from Rukia's zanpakuto and swallowed the Arrancar whole, and would have snagged Matsumoto in the torrent if someone else hadn't intervened at the last possible moment.

The barrier kept Rukia's attack from harming Rangiku at the same time its energies began to heal her, patching up the various wounds Sun-Sun had inflicted during their brawl.

"Thanks, Inoue," Kuchiki said as she ran over to make sure Matsumoto hadn't been grazed by her attack. "I owe you one."

"Don't mention it," Orihime replied seriously, focusing on healing the downed Shinigami. "My _shunpo_ is still a bit sluggish, but I managed to get here in time all the same. You take care of the Arrancar; I'll keep an eye on Rangiku."

Rukia nodded once and left the pair behind, trusting in herself to protect Orihime and trusting in Orihime to do her job quickly. If there was one handicap in a fight that Kuchiki tried to avoid whenever possible, it was dividing up her attention.

Sun-Sun was surrounded by a prison of ice in Hakuren's aftermath, but Rukia could tell that the attack was only going to buy her a few moments; the trapped Arrancar's reiatsu was already loosening the ice's hold. Determined to capitalize on her brief advantage while she had it, Kuchiki concentrated and summoned Sode no Shirayuki's power once more.

"_Some no Mai: Tsuki Shiro!"_

The circle was etched swiftly into the ground, the white pillar of ice spiking high into the heavens a heartbeat later. Rukia could tell that nothing was contained in the column, however, and quickly spun around, raising her zanpakuto to block a swift palm strike from Sun-Sun and gritting her teeth as the impact felt like a sword-blow.

"Impressive reflexes, Shinigami," the Arrancar said with a coolness that Rukia couldn't help but respect. "And you even managed to scar me in this form. But do not believe that your powers are anywhere near great enough to bring me down."

Rukia broke the deadlock with a shove and struck again and again with Sode no Shirayuki, trying in vain to find a gap in her enemy's defenses. Sun-Sun moved with the agility to match her serpentine form, and swiftly began using her tail as a weapon once Kuchiki started pushing her back.

"Your blade is weak, Shinigami," the Arrancar taunted as she landed a strike that penetrated Rukia's right shoulder, causing Kuchiki's grip on her zanpakuto to slacken. "This battle is mine."

As Sun-Sun prepared to thrust her hand through Rukia's throat, the Shinigami sprang backwards, urged on by a sudden boost of adrenaline. After landing on one knee and forcing herself up to her feet despite the pain in her shoulder, Rukia checked quickly on the depth of the wound to make sure it wasn't critical before turning her attention fully to her opponent.

"You're right, Arrancar," she said, a smile spreading slowly across her face, "my blade is weak. I've never been good with a sword, you know."

Sun-Sun saw the killing intent spike in her enemy's eyes and knew that the Shinigami was planning something; determined not to give her that chance, she leapt forward to attack when Rukia suddenly fired off a completely chantless _Byakurai_, stopping the Arrancar's charge cold. But Rukia was far from finished, and had already prepared another _kido_ before Sun-Sun had even come back to her senses.

"_Bakudo number 61: Rikujokoro!"_

"Shit!" Sun-Sun hissed as the rods of light slammed into her midsection, holding her in place despite her increasingly vehement attempts to shatter them. Seeing that the _kido_ was weakening, Kuchiki decided she needed to speed things up, even if it was a big risk to be taking.

"Inoue, get Matsumoto out of here!" Rukia called out as she prepared the final blow. "I still can't control this _hado_ very well, and I don't want to injure either of you in the crossfire by mistake!"

Orihime dispelled her _Soten Kisshun_ immediately, and as soon as the pair of women had flashed away, Rukia focused through the pain of her wound and spoke.

"_Hado number 88: Hiryugekizokushintenraiho!"_

The blast of blue lightning tore through the air with a deafening crash, drowning out the scream of the Arrancar as Sun-Sun was obliterated. Rukia smiled to herself as the fatigue of the battle caught up with her at last and she fell to the ground, exhausted. Even bypassed, the spell had carried enough force to eliminate her opponent.

_If only Kaien-dono had been here to see that…_ she thought, as her battle fatigue finally pushed her over the brink and into unconsciousness.

* * *

As he was ejected from the grasp of Szayel Aporro's tentacle and thrown off of the roof the Espada was standing on, Hisagi realized with a chill that what his opponent was about to do might kill him in a matter of moments. In other words, his lifespan rested on just how sadistic Szayel Aporro Granz was feeling, and how slowly he felt like breaking the Shinigami into pieces with his freakish voodoo doll. On top of it all, whatever process the Espada used to make his bizarre replica had drained Shuuhei of reiatsu, enough to force him to re-seal his zanpakuto if he wanted to keep his wound from re-opening.

It was not a very comforting situation to be in, to say the very least.

"Once again we find ourselves dancing a most familiar dance, Shuuhei Hisagi!" Szayel called out energetically as he jumped down from the roof, landing smoothly in front of his adversary.

"Which reminds me," the Espada continued, his tone shifting abruptly from excited to speculative, "I never had the chance to ask you how it was you recovered from the last time I broke your bones into tiny shards. Hmm, I imagine it was that 'Orihime' woman," Granz mused as Hisagi forced himself to his feet, becoming increasingly furious and looking for a way to get the doll away from Szayel before he began smashing him to pieces.

"I really _must_ study her sometime; her powers are truly fascinating," the Arrancar half-mumbled, turning away from the wounded Shinigami. Shuuhei saw his chance, forcing his arms to cooperate and raising his zanpakuto as he charged forward.

"Didn't anyone ever tell you that it's incredibly rude to charge an opponent when they're not ready to fight, Shinigami?"

Hisagi felt something slam into his head, stalling his charge, and realized that Granz had done nothing more than flick his finger against the doll's forehead.

"But if you want to get this started right now, I guess it would be inconsiderate of me not to oblige you, Shuuhei Hisagi."

The Shinigami felt every muscle in his body tense up as the outer shell of the doll was pulled apart, and urgency blazed through him as he realized that he was going to be making a return visit to Szayel Aporro Granz's own particular version of hell very shortly if he didn't do something immediately. Shaking off the daze from the Espada's earlier attack, he decided to use _shunpo_ this time and vanished, aiming his zanpakuto right at the wrist of the hand holding the doll that would be the death of him.

"Whether my eyes can see you or not counts for nothing, Shinigami," Szayel said calmly, picking out the organ labeled 'Appendix' and shattering it between his fingers. The shock and sudden sharp pain stalled Hisagi's _shunpo_ and he reappeared, eyes wide, his sword frozen mere inches from Granz's hand.

"So close," the Espada taunted icily, "and yet so far."

After delivering a harsh punch right to the area of Shuuhei's burst organ, Szayel withdrew a lung and smiled while Hisagi could only reel back, totally outmatched.

"You should be glad, Hisagi," the Arrancar said lowly. "Rather than shatter all of your bones to begin, I've chosen to be merciful this time and end your life swiftly by destroying your organs first."

As he crushed the 'lung' between his fingers, Szayel's amber eyes lit up with manic intensity. Shuuhei felt his vision go blurry as pain seared through him and his body immediately reacted to the loss of half its air supply. He felt like he was drowning, and the Shinigami's fear only deepened when he saw the Espada withdraw the small facsimile labeled 'Heart'.

"This isn't proving to be as interesting as I had hoped, Shuuhei Hisagi," Szayel taunted. "You seem to be more pathetic now then when we last crossed blades; unfortunately, it seems as though I will not be able to show you the full extent of my powers during this duel either. But do not worry; this farce of a battle is drawing to a close, and with it your pain shall end as well."

The world started moving in slow-motion as Hisagi's body gave him one last desperate shot of adrenaline to keep his organs functioning; he could see the muscles in Grantz's wrist tensing, and felt his own heart spasm as the Arrancar's fingers tensed around the replica, ready to crush it into dust—

And then it vanished, along with the rest of the voodoo doll.

"What!?" Szayel said, shocked at the sudden turn of events, but before he could look for the culprit he felt one of his lower tentacles become suddenly leaden. He gasped as it fell to the ground and stayed there, weighing him down.

"How…?"

A cold, steely voice spoke out from the left of the two combatants in response to the question.

"Would you care for me to explain the abilities of my zanpakuto to you, Arrancar? Since you are about to die," a blond-haired Shinigami with an oddly-shaped sword in his hands finished, "I see no harm in it."

"Kira…" Shuuhei gasped out, only to have Izuru fix him with a look that silenced him instantly.

"I am sorry it took me so long to get here, Hisagi," he apologized gravely, "but the _Kyakko_ spell took longer to get under control than I thought it would. Please, try to hang on until I can see to your wounds."

"What did you do to me, Shinigami!?" Szayel shouted, regaining Kira's attention. But rather than speak, the warrior simply vanished in a burst of _shunpo_, reemerging behind and to the right of the Espada. A thin line of black blood graced the edges of Wabisuke's angular blade, dripping down slowly onto dusty ground that seemed to drink it up hungrily. As Grantz's second lower tentacle became weighed down in the same manner as the first, pinning him to the ground completely, Izuru spoke once more.

"Have you figured it out yet, Espada?" the grim Shinigami asked. "For a being who professes to be a scientist, you seem quite perplexed." Taking Szayel's vain struggle to move and vitriolic streams of insults as a 'no' before supplying the answer himself.

"My zanpakuto, Wabisuke, has a very interesting ability," Kira began casually as he dodged a wild attack from an upper tentacle, before slashing that one down into submission as well. "It doubles the weight of whatever it hits. If I hit the same target twice, the doubled weight is doubled again. In short," Izuru finished, bringing the Arrancar's final appendage to heel before walking up and hamstringing him, "by this point, you should be quite incapable of movement."

Szayel had crumpled to his knees, bright eyes burning with hatred towards his soon-to-be-executioner.

"Even if I die here, Shinigami," he spat, "it will change nothing. The upper Espada will move soon enough, and when they arrive, you inferior beings will be swept away!"

"We survived their first purge, Espada," Kira replied stonily, raising the blade up and severing the _Septima's_ head from his shoulders.

"I see no reason why we won't survive the second."

Quickly re-sealing his blade, Izuru hastened over to Hisagi's side and began to cast the healing _kido_ he'd learned in his time with Captain Unohana in the Fourth Division. Once the emergency steps were taken to pull Shuuhei back from the brink of death, Kira took a moment to cast a _Tozansho_ pyramid around them, taking the recently-departed Espada's threat seriously. In case the upper echelon of Aizen's death-squad did decide to make an appearance soon, the last thing Izuru wanted was to be caught unprepared.

* * *

Soi Fon opened her eyes slowly, expecting for the heinous pain caused by Momo's _Kurohitsugi_ to return when she did. But instead of that, she felt nothing at all. No pain, no fatigue, no discomfort. She was perfectly fine.

The world around her, though, was another story altogether.

The tranquil field that normally composed her Spirit World was dying, the lush grass withering and decaying on the ground while sheets of rain poured down from the sky.

"What… what's going on?"

"Is it not obvious?" a lean, muscular woman with short dark hair, grey eyes and a sharply perceptive voice called out to her. "This world is in mourning."

"Mourning?" Soi Fon repeatedly slowly, wondering what the cause could be for such a thing. "Why?"

"Because you are dying," the spirit of Suzumebachi replied stoically, and the Shinigami's eyes snapped open in shock.

"What!? How is that possible if I'm standing here now, talking to you?"

"Your body has been ripped to shreds," the spirit explained. "Right now, the only thing that tethers you to this plane of existence at all is sheer willpower. I am doing all I can to hold this realm together, but if you do not assist me, very shortly both of us will cease to exist altogether."

Soi Fon nodded firmly and began to focus as hard as she could, intent on drawing her soul out of this spiritual prison and back into the corporeal world of Soul Society, where that bitch Hinamori was no doubt gloating over her victory. She couldn't lose, and especially not to Aizen's whimpering little lapdog.

But as soon as she began to feel herself rise out of the Spirit World, a wall of agonizing pain slammed into her entire body, forcing the Shinigami back down.

_What the hell?_ Soi Fon thought as she tried to force the fresh agony into the back of her mind.

"That is only a glimpse of the pain you will face once you are reunited with your body in the physical world, Mistress," Suzumebachi chimed in evenly. "I would be remiss if I did not tell you that the trauma of such a reunion might result in your death outright."

"Then what's the point, Suzumebachi?" Soi Fon shouted. "Why even bother to try, if it's just going to kill me anyway?!"

The spirit got a strange gleam in her eye just then, and smiled in a way she only did when she was about to show Soi Fon just how much of an idiot she was being.

"That's funny," Suzumebachi quipped. "I remember someone asking you a very similar question one time. Do you remember that?"

Soi Fon's eyes widened as she realized what her zanpakuto's spirit was telling her, her thoughts pulling her away to a moment more than a decade old.

"_Mom," _Héctor had said one day, when he was only six, "_can I ask you a question?"_

"_Of course you can," _she had replied with a small smile, pulling her son onto her lap and looking down into the vivid blue eyes he had inherited from his father. _"What's wrong?"_

"_I want to know why you and Dad are pushing me so hard to train and get stronger, if you're never going to let me fight."_

"_You think we should let you go out there?" _Soi Fon had answered with wry amusement, trying to deflect her child's melancholy with humor. _"I don't know if you'd be able to reach any of the bad guy's heads, let alone defeat them!"_

"_You _know_ what I mean, Mom," _Héctor had replied petulantly, and Soi Fon sighed as she realized that her son was too clever even at this age to be put off by such simple diversions. She had shifted her expression into seriousness to make sure that Héctor was paying attention, and then Soi Fon had begun to speak.

"_Héctor,"_ she had said, _"the people we are fighting against take their orders from a man who doesn't possess a single bit of mercy in his soul. If your father and I were to fall in battle, and if everyone else you know, all of our friends and allies, were to fall as well, then there would be nothing more important than knowing how to protect yourself from harm as best as you can."_

"_What are you saying, Mom?"_ Héctor had replied slowly, knowing exactly where his parent was going with this but afraid of where that path ended.

"_I'm saying, Héctor, that even though you might not need to ever use the powers you train so hard to improve, there may come a time when you need to face down enemies far more powerful than yourself in order to protect something precious to you. Whether it's your own life, or the life of someone you care about more than your own, that doesn't matter. All that matters is that you have the strength within you to overcome whatever obstacles you may face, even as you pray that you never have to overcome those obstacles to begin with."_

"_You're not going to leave me, though, are you?"_ Héctor had asked with slight apprehension in his voice as he hugged his mother tightly, resting his cheek against her chest. Soi Fon had smiled sadly then, wrapping one arm around her son and resting her free hand on top of his head.

"_I can't promise you that I'll be around forever, Héctor,"_ she had told him. _"But I can promise you that for as long as I am alive, I'll protect you." _

"Do you remember that?" Suzumebachi's voice called out, snapping the Shinigami from her thoughts. "Don't tell me you're too weak to practice what you preach, when your loved ones are out there fighting and you're cowering in here afraid of pain; afraid of death. Is that the legacy you wish to leave behind to your son?"

The sudden image of Grimmjow and Héctor standing bitter and broken-hearted over her grave galvanized Soi Fon into action. Once again, she attempted to break out of her Spirit World and go back to where her lacerated body was waiting for her, hellish suffering be damned.

The wall of pain slammed into her again, but the Shinigami refused to buckle, pushing against it as hard as she could until Soi Fon felt it giving way before her. She kept going, shoving the wall along with her like a huge weight. It seemed determined to try and force her back the rest of the way, and Soi Fon knew that the force opposing her was her base instincts telling her not to risk potential death, but she didn't care. She had too much left to do to worry about something as trivial as death right now.

Her sense of direction blurred for a moment as the Shinigami strained against the border separating her two worlds, and with a final thrust she broke out of the darkness and back into the light of the sun shining down upon Soul Society.

_I did it,_ she thought with a weary smile as she forced her leaden eyelids to open. _I'm back._

A torrent of anguish smashed Soi Fon's sense of triumph to pieces, but she was too determined to let her body's base desire to make the pain go away obliterate her mind as well. She had been through all-consuming pain like this once before when she'd re-accepted the memories of her human existence back into her mind; she could do it again.

Hinamori had just finished sealing and sheathing Tobiume, and was about to go eliminate the unconscious Kuchiki lying on the ground not that far away, when a sudden surge of reiatsu coming from her downed opponent stopped the Vizard in her tracks.

"What's this?" she asked, turning back around and drawing her blade once again as Soi Fon hauled her body up onto its feet, the tattered muscles bolstered by a dense aura of reiatsu that was a testament to her rank as a Captain in Soul Society's army. "You can still stand? Most impressive, Soi Fon. But I can tell that this is just a front; your body is in shambles, you can barely stand, and the hand your _shikai_ is on will never be able to reach me—"

Momo's words were cut off suddenly as Soi Fon appeared right in front of her in a terrifyingly fast _shunpo_, placing her bare hand against the Vizard's chest and smirking viciously.

"I only need one hand to rip your heart out, you worm," she hissed, striking forward with her functional hand. Hinamori vanished with a _shunpo_ of her own and reappeared a few paces away, but she was hunched over slightly and blood was clearly dripping from the contact points Soi Fon had hit on her chest.

"You're really pissing me off, you whore," Momo growled in an unbalanced voice made even more ominous by the scratchy Hollow-like tone that her mask gave her. "Just shut up and die already! _Hado number 54: Hai—"_

"_Lanzador Verde."_

Hinamori's fatal _kido_ was stopped just before it could be released as a massive white, double-edged lance flew at the Vizard and slammed into her abdomen, causing her to cough up blood instantly before throwing her backwards and slamming her into a nearby wall. The weapon pinned Momo against the concrete securely at the same time as it punctured a hole deep into the flesh right below her shoulder blade. A few moments later the weapon sprang out of the wound it had caused and arced away, landing with one point down in the dirt right beside its owner.

"I've been hesitant to enter this state ever since Inoue re-forged my zanpakuto for me," Neliel said as she picked up her lance and moved forward, the hooves of her _resurreccion_ form clicking softly against the ground. "Honestly, I didn't know how it would turn out. I'm relieved to see that I haven't lost any of my power, at least."

"I'm impressed," Momo said defiantly. "Even after witnessing my power, you would still interfere?"

"Oh, I plan on doing much more than interfering, little Vizard," Nel replied easily as she charged forward at full speed.

"I plan on finishing it."

The former _Tercera_ Espada weaved flawlessly in between hasty blasts of _kido_ before ramming the spike of her lance through the center of Hinamori's sternum, shattering the bone and crushing the tender organs that rested underneath it.

"This is far too painless of an end for you," Neliel mused disdainfully, wrenching the lance from the wound as Momo fell to the ground, her eyes wide and glassy. Nel quickly released her _resurreccion_ form and returned to normal, intent on using every bit of reiatsu she could to help aid in the recovery of Soi Fon's wounded body.

"Don't move," the Arrancar insisted as Soi Fon attempted to push herself off of the ground. "I don't know how you're still breathing, but if you push it too far now you'll die."

Neliel could see the Shinigami's onyx eyes balk initially at the thought of staying down, but soon enough rationality won out over pride and she relaxed, allowing her ally to pour reiatsu into her wounds.

"Just hang on," Nel encouraged. "I should be able to have you at least healthy enough to move around in a few minutes—"

The former Espada's words were cut off by an animalistic shriek, and her head whipped around at once to behold a monstrous sight.

Momo was back on her feet again. Or at least, the body that had once belonged to Momo Hinamori was upright. But it was clear from the appearance of this _thing_, as white liquid began to seethe over her body and harden into a carapace of armor, that Hinamori was no longer in control.

Her inner Hollow had come out to fight, in full force and without any control holding it back.

"Oh, no," Neliel breathed out in horror as the monster's dense, twisted reiatsu spiked when it opened its mouth and roared to the heavens in rage. The creature sprang forward with blinding speed, and even though Nel was able to block the initial attack with the blade of her zanpakuto, she could tell that the battle against this freakish enemy was going to be anything but easy.

* * *

"God damn it!"

Gin watched Kurosaki's typical overreaction with amusement and a hint of relief; what seemed at first blush to be a setback would actually be quite the boon for him.

"I told you we weren't at Las Noches yet, Ichigo," Ichimaru broke in, "but you were just in too much of a hurry to listen."

"Whatever, we'll just use _shunpo_ to get there. It won't make a difference!"

"Except to completely rob us of the element of surprise, of course," Gin parried, and Kurosaki could do nothing more than shoot his comrade a dirty look. "Any excess leakage of reiatsu could tip them off, and I wouldn't be surprised if Aizen already knows exactly where we are."

"Well then," Ichigo shot back sharply as he turned away and began to walk towards the fortress looming in the distance that they had once called home, "what do you propose we do, Ichimaru?"

"This," Gin said simply as he appeared in front of Ichigo with a _shunpo_ so fast Kurosaki hadn't even felt it, before cracking Shinso's hilt against the kid's temple and knocking him out cold.

"I know you think you're the one who has the most grievances with Aizen," the former Captain said calmly as he strode a few paces away from Ichigo and tore open another _garganta_, "but I've been waiting for my chance to pay him back for far longer than you've been breathing, kid. 'Sides, you're no use to anyone if you just get yourself killed again.

"Let me take care of this one."

Ichimaru passed through the tear and closed it behind him, hastening through the swirling, inky void before finding his point of entry and stopping, taking in a breath to calm himself down before he opened the exit and stepped out into the Throne Room of Las Noches, where Aizen and his top five Espada were currently assembled.

"Ah, Gin," Sosuke greeted with his usual calm, despite the fact that his subordinate's eyes were open wide and the smile had vanished from his face completely, "you've come after all. I was beginning to think you were simply going to flee, and pray that I never found you."

"We both know that would be pointless, Captain," Ichimaru answered evenly, and Aizen smiled.

"Indeed it would be," he agreed. "You five," Sosuke continued, addressing the Espada now while keeping his gaze locked with Gin's, "leave us, and go reinforce your brethren fighting in Soul Society."

"You sure you don't want us to just crush this shifty bastard for you, Aizen?" Barragan spoke up gruffly, and as Sosuke and Gin stared each other down a grin began to rise again on Ichimaru's face.

"Barragan, the only person in this room who could defeat Gin is myself," Aizen replied smoothly. "Now go."

The top five Espada rose and exited the room in silence as they had been commanded to do, leaving the two Shinigami alone in the massive room.

"So, Gin," Sosuke began, the edges of his lips turning upwards into a smirk, "how was Matsumoto?"

The grin on Ichimaru's face vanished immediately, his reiatsu spiking reflexively at the question before he willed it back down to normal without missing a beat. Still, Aizen's smirk widened at the reaction. "I assume you used the opportunity I gave you to cut ties with her once and for all before marching here, to your death?"

Gin's smirk returned as a shadow of its former self, but his reply lost none of its strength.

"No."

"No?" Aizen repeated, intrigued. "Then what did you say?"

"The truth of how I felt about her; how I've always felt."

Sosuke chuckled, feeling the rage simmering underneath Gin's calm exterior and now realizing where it had all come from.

"And then?" he prodded, enjoying the sight of watching his once-unflappable subordinate slowly crack.

"She called me a liar," Ichimaru replied stoically, "said that I had chosen you over her when it mattered the most, and that nothing would ever change that."

"And am I to assume you blame me for the choice you yourself made, Gin?"

"Following you was never my choice," Ichimaru shot back, finally moving one hand to Shinso's hilt, "because you never gave me a choice to begin with."

"There was always a choice in front of you, Gin," Aizen calmly insisted, disappearing from atop his throne and reappearing on the ground at the other end of the long table. "Just because the alternative to joining me was death, that doesn't mean you didn't have a choice. Either way, you were going to lose her. Not being able to accept that is your own fault."

"Maybe," Ichimaru replied tersely, drawing his zanpakuto and slipping seamlessly into a combat stance, "but that doesn't change the fact that you were the one who forced me to make the choice to begin with."

"Then come," Aizen said coldly as he unsheathed Kyoka Suigetsu, "and exact your revenge from me, if you can."

The surge of reiatsu that Gin unleashed was enough to shatter the thick stone table into rubble, and a heartbeat later the two former allies clashed for the first time in the heart of Las Noches.

* * *

.......................

................................

**A/N: **Man, that chapter was exhausting to write. Once again, nothing but the biggest ups go out to both **JasoTheArtisan** and **MatsuMama** for beta-ing this chapter. Also, thanks to Jaso for additionally convincing me to shorten this installment by a few scenes, which was what needed to happen in the end. But don't worry, those scenes will show up next chapter.

Hope this chapter proved to be enjoyable, and show my buddies some love by reading and reviewing their fics, namely **So **and **Anonymous** by Jaso and **Nebula** by MatsuMama. You won't regret taking the time to do so.


	32. The Deathbringers

**Torn**

**Chapter 32: **The Deathbringers

* * *

"_Split and deviate, _Ruiro Kujaku."

Yammy didn't even flinch as he heard Yumichika voice his zanpakuto's release command; the Espada had faced the multi-bladed sickle before, and it possessed all the tenacity and force of a mosquito.

It was Yammy's scorn for his power that Yumichika had been counting on. Sure, he had faced Fuji Kujaku before, but Ruiro Kujaku was a completely different beast altogether. The fatigued Shinigami had barely enough energy left to grin at the sight of the energy tendrils enveloping his enemy. He'd be back on his feet soon enough, though, and this battle would be brought to a most savagely graceful conclusion.

It only took a minute for the siphoning process to finish, and Yumichika reached out slowly to grab a delicate, fully bloomed white flower. Putting it in his mouth the Shinigami bit down, savoring the feeling of reiatsu spreading through every inch of his injured body and restoring his strength. Rising to his feet with a calm assurance that had been utterly lacking mere moments ago, Yumichika regressed his zanpakuto back to its multi-pronged sickle state and sighed.

"Thank you for a truly challenging fight, Espada," he spoke by way of parting. "My only regret is that I defeated you before giving you a chance to fight at your full strength."

"Heh, stupid Shinigami… do you really think that's enough to kill _me_!?"

Rialgo's fists rose and fell with enough force to shake the ground under Yumichika's feet, and a few moments later he had pushed himself up from the dirt and back into a standing position.

"You still have enough strength left in you to stand?" Ayasegawa breathed, stunned. "That's not possible!"

"Don't think I've shown you all of my tricks, pretty boy!" Yammy shot back with a rumbling laugh, squaring his shoulders and beginning to emit a low sound that grew steadily into a shout and then a roar. As the battle-cry gained strength, so did the Espada seem to grow larger and larger right before Yumichika's eyes.

"Try beating me now, you little brat!" the _Cero _Espada boomed down from his new vantage point, madness gleaming in his eyes. "I'm gonna bash your fucking skull in!"

Yumichika found himself back on the defensive immediately, dodging fists that were the size of large boulders by weaving around like a lunatic. Seeing an opening as his adversary charged up a _bala_, the Shinigami tried to reclaim some of his lost ground.

"_Hado number 63: Raikoho!"_

Rather than use his _bala_ to forcefully deflect the _kido_ as Yumichika had hoped, Yammy simply grinned and stuck out his free hand in an open palm, stopping the _hado_ barehanded. Yumichika had almost no time to react as the _bala_ shot towards him, managing to flash away with _shunpo_ in order to avoid the brunt of the damage, but still cringing as he smelled burning flesh and glanced down to find his left thigh severely burned, with charred black ringing the edges of an open wound that had fortunately been cauterized by the heat.

Still, there was no way he was going to be doing much more than limping for the foreseeable future, a future that was growing shorter by the moment.

"Such an ugly way to meet my end, brought down like some trapped animal," Yumichika growled, staring defiantly up into Yammy's murderous glare while silently willing his wounded leg to move.

_Captain, Ikkaku,_ the Shinigami thought solemnly as Rialgo pinned him down with sheer reiatsu and prepared to fire off a _cero_ that would surely be fatal, _I'm sorry I couldn't avenge your deaths._

"Let's see you squirm around now, Shinigami," the lumbering Espada rumbled as his _cero_ finished charging. "Die!"

"_Gran Rey Cero."_

A sudden surge of reiatsu hit both Yammy and the already-stunned Yumichika like a rampaging bull, and a fraction of a second later a massive blast of green energy slammed into Rialgo's side, throwing off the aim of his finishing blow by enough to save Ayasegawa from death.

"Really, Yammy," a calm voice said as the poised figure of Ulquiorra Schiffer walked out of a nearby alley's shadows and into the light, "you have to go this far to crush a single Shinigami? And here I thought you were deserving of your rank; how foolish of me."

"Ulquiorra, you bastard," Rialgo growled as he rose to his feet again, ignoring the burns and wounds that now marred his muscles. "Don't get in my way!"

The former _Cuarta_ Espada didn't reply to the taunt, instead using _sonido_ to vanish from sight. Yammy was immediately alert for movement, but by the time he spun around to behold his enemy once more, Schiffer was already sheathing his lightly-bloodstained zanpakuto. Before he could so much as launch a retaliatory punch, Rialgo's attack was derailed by searing pain in his shoulder, which was followed up immediately by his left arm falling away and landing in the ground with a thud.

"Can you move, Ayasegawa?" Ulquiorra asked evenly, utterly unconcerned with the berserker rage Yammy had been provoked into by his wound.

"If I could," Yumichika spat back, "Do you think I would be here right now? Took your group long enough to show up, Arrancar."

Pointedly ignoring the venomous tone of the words, Schiffer grabbed the Shinigami by the front of his robes and disappeared again, stopping his high-speed movement in front of a run-down shack not far away from the raging _Cero_ Espada.

"May I leave him to you, Orihime?" Ulquiorra asked Inoue, who was sitting inside the small structure and looking quite calm as she knelt over the prone body of Rangiku Matsumoto.

"Of course," Inoue replied, giving both the wounded Shinigami and the Arrancar holding him up a reassuring smile. Orihime had grown physically in the years since Ichigo's mortal death and Aizen's invasion, having been brought to Soul Society as a permanent resident by the Shinigami because of her potent abilities. Constant exposure to the spiritual nature of Soul Society had shifted her gradually away from human and closer and closer to a pure soul, and as a result her aging had all-but stopped in the mid-twenties. A _katana_ was held in the sash circling her waist, devoid of spiritual energy apart from what she chose to invest it with during a battle.

"Very well," Schiffer spoke tersely, depositing Yumichika in the room before turning around and walking back out into the sunlight.

"Heal him quickly," the former Espada said by way of parting as he vanished, leaving to face Yammy once more.

When the healer and her patient-to-be were alone in the room, Yumichika's expression turned from weary to spiteful.

"I hope those two destroy each other," the Shinigami said bitterly as Orihime finished healing Rangiku and shifted her Soten Kisshun to cover Yumichika's wounded leg. As its warm glow began to mend the injured appendage, Inoue arched an eyebrow at the unprovoked venom in Ayasegawa's words and spoke.

"Why do you hate Ulquiorra so much?" she asked, and Yumichika gave her a look of disbelief that she had even bothered to ask before replying.

"Why do you _think_, Orihime?" he shot back. "Because he's an Arrancar."

"Be that as it may," the healer replied as calmly as she could, feeling her cheeks warm with indignation, "Ulquiorra has done nothing but help all of us since the Invasion, and even before then."

"A wolf in sheep's clothing is still a wolf," Ayasegawa answered sharply, "the kind of wolf that killed the Captain and Ikkaku. You can't ask me to ever trust one of those dogs, Orihime. Sooner or later, they all go feral."

"You don't know that," Inoue said with increasingly wavering calm. "Ulquiorra—"

"Is someone you're biased towards just because he taught you how to use that sword you have at your hip." Yumichika finished, cutting her off sharply. "Are you done yet?"

Swallowing her now-considerable anger and smirking to herself, Inoue banished her Soten Kisshun and smiled. This time, however, reassurance in her expression was utterly feigned.

"I am," she replied. "Unfortunately the _bala_ that wounded you left behind enough of its own reiatsu that I was unable to heal the wound entirely, but this should still suffice for combat."

It was a lie that she wouldn't have been able to heal the wound fully, but Yumichika deserved to limp for acting like such an ass. The two left the shack and parted ways along with Matsumoto, who was now conscious. Orihime and Rangiku left to check back up on Rukia, while Ayasegawa vanished to return to the fight against Yammy. Not because he wanted to come to Ulquiorra's aid, but rather because he knew that once the green-eyed bastard was dead, Rialgo would come for him, and as much as he despised two-on-one fights, there was no way he could win this battle on his own.

* * *

Grimmjow was still smarting from the _bala_ he'd been hit with when he felt Soi Fon's reiatsu drop sharply in the distance, almost as if she was…

No. No, she wasn't dead. That made no sense whatsoever, that she would just go down like that in the blink of an eye, from one attack.

"Oh, what's this?" Wonderwice's cool, calculating voice spoke out from above the prone Arrancar. "It looks like Hinamori's already taken care of your woman, Jaegerjaques. Odd; I would have thought Momo to be the type to play with her prey for longer than that—"

Margera's observations were cut short by a harsh snarl as Grimmjow rushed at him, having risen to his feet and drawn his sword with speed that caused Wonderwice's eyes to widen slightly in surprise. But before the strike from Pantera could land, the _Novena_ Espada had reached out and grabbed the blade with one hand, stopping its motion completely.

"Good recovery," he complimented tonelessly, "but that counts for nothing if you can't land a strike, Grimmjow."

The Espada's next move was so fast it looked like a blur even to Grimmjow's trained eyes, and only a quick leap backwards saved him from being skewered straight through the gut by one of Wonderwice's _hierro_-strengthened hands.

"Not bad, not bad," Margera spoke as he flexed his hand, his violet eyes narrowing into an expression of controlled malice and murderous intent that looked incredibly out of place on such a young face.

"Then again," he continued, "I shouldn't be so surprised that a coward and traitor like yourself has a talent for evasion and escape."

Jaegerjaques didn't dignify the insult with a verbal response, instead choosing to attack once again, an action that drew little more than an exasperated sigh from Wonderwice.

"You truly believe that you are stronger than any enemy you face, Jaegerjaques," Margera said distractedly as he struck out blind with his hand, slamming his fingertips into Grimmjow's throat and sending the former Espada staggering backwards. "That is your fatal flaw, and today it will be the death of you."

"Shut the fuck up," Grimmjow growled raspily as his voice returned to him. "You're just the _Novena_, and you were even back when I was the _Sexta_! How can you say I'm not stronger than you?"

All of a sudden Wonderwice's face was only inches from his, and Jaegerjaques felt a sharp pain in his torso. Looking down, the former Espada's eyes went wide with incredulity as he saw that Margera's hand had pierced clean through his chest and out the other side, with the _Novena's_ elbow lodged inside his chest. He hadn't even _felt_ the bastard's approach, let alone seen it. This kid, the retarded brat Tosen had kept as his pet in Hueco Mundo, had stabbed him, Grimmjow Jaegerjaques, clean through the chest and inflicted a mortal wound on him.

And Grimmjow, for all of his self-proclaimed strength, had never seen it coming.

"You were the _Sexta_ by default, Jaegerjaques," Wonderwice said calmly over the sound of Grimmjow hacking up his lifeblood in disbelief. "I was the _Novena_ by choice, and that simple fact makes all the difference in the world."

Margera withdrew his arm, looking at the blood that stained up to the elbow of his sleeve with disdain as Grimmjow collapsed onto the ground and stayed there, unmoving.

"Stay down, Grimmjow," Wonderwice spoke a few moments later. "Enough of your pathetic blood has stained me already." The Espada's head turned as he felt approaching reiatsu signatures, and he called out to the arriving warriors.

"Come out," he spoke as Renji and Shiro appeared in flashes of _shunpo_ and _sonido_. "We're finished."

"Grimmjow!" Renji called out, rushing over to his fallen ally's aid. "Shit, this is bad!" he said as he examined the Arrancar's wounds. "If I don't get him out of here and heal him now, he's done for!"

"Then shut up and do that, Abarai," Shiro snapped at the Shinigami as he drew Zangetsu from his back. "I'll take care of the Espada."

"You sure?" Renji asked as he hauled the Arrancar's unconscious body over his shoulder and prepared to _shunpo_ away as Wonderwice made no effort to stop him, his sharp violet eyes trained totally on Shiro.

"Yeah, I'm sure," the Hollow pressed, growing annoyed. "This brat's just the _Novena_; no reason to use a sledgehammer on an ant."

Abarai nodded and vanished with a whisper of _shunpo_, leaving Shiro alone to face down Wonderwice. The Hollow struck first, bringing the massive, cleaver-shaped blade of Zangetsu down on the Espada's raised arm, where it slashed through the sleeve of the white garment before grinding in vain against the underlying _hierro_.

"Curious," Margera mused as his opponent pushed even harder against the guard, striving to draw blood. "You saw what I did to Jaegerjaques, and yet you are willing to face me alone?"

"Abarai would just get in my way," Shiro answered through grit teeth. "Besides," he continued, digging deep and boosting his reaitsu even further as a maniac grin split his features, "I haven't had a fight like this in a while. This should be fun!"

The Hollow's smile widened as his zanpakuto finally broke through the Espada's shield and drew blood, the sight of the dark liquid causing Wonderwice's features to harden instantly. Frowning, the Espada shoved back against his attacker and sent Shiro flying backwards. The Hollow charged again at once, like a shark chasing after the trail of blood left by a wounded seal. His inverted Zangetsu rose and fell again and again, scoring several small hits on his adversary. Margera wasn't seriously wounded by the barrage, but clearly saw how much more emboldened Shiro became after each hit he landed, a berserker through and through. Determined to squash this insect before things got truly troublesome, Wonderwice set his feet and went on the offensive.

Shiro had to stop his reckless charge in order to dodge and deflect the swarm of knife-like hand strikes Margera suddenly threw out at him, moving with a speed that he could barely keep up with. He didn't want to bring out his trump card before his enemy had even drawn his zanpakuto, but the Hollow also knew that if he didn't even the scales soon, he might be walking away from this fight with more than a few injuries—if he even walked away at all. As soon as there was a gap in the flurry of attacks, he squared his shoulders and shouted.

"_Bankai!"_

The resulting burst of reiatsu was enough to force Wonderwice to break off from his assault, and when the smoke and dust cleared Shiro had assumed the garb of Tensa Zangetsu, his _bankai_.

"You're really going to make this difficult, aren't you?" Margera said with a hint of annoyance marring his otherwise calm voice as he reached behind his back and drew his zanpakuto. "Very well, but do not expect your end to be swift."

Shiro just laughed, readying his _katana_ to attack.

"Good luck trying to lay a finger on me now, Espada!" he taunted, before vanishing from sight completely.

"_Getsuga Tensho!"_

Wonderwice turned around and blocked the black crescent with the blade of his zanpakuto, pushing hard against it and slicing it clean in half.

"Thanks for the opening, you retard."

Another _Getsuga Tensho_ was launched at Margera's back and this time it connected, the force of the blow causing the Espada to turn around. Charging after the staggering Arrancar, Shiro kept up his assault and, by containing the power of the _Getsuga Tensho_ inside of his sword rather than releasing it, carved wound after wound into Wonderwice's chest. Soon enough, the Espada stumbled and fell to the ground. Shiro's sword was immediately at his neck, and Margera didn't flinch as he locked eyes with his enemy.

"You're finished, Espada," the Hollow declared viciously as he raised his sword, blade pointed down and aimed directly at Wonderwice's heart. As the _katana_ fell through the air, though, Shiro felt a powerful presence appear behind him. He quickly jumped backwards, flipping through the air and landing on his feet in a crouch. The newcomer looked over at Wonderwice and spoke.

"Aizen wants you small-fry out of the way while we clean up the mess," he said.

The _Novena_ Espada used his opportunity to rip open a _garganta_ and escape, leaving the Hollow to deal with a new enemy. He had black hair that hung down in bangs to frame burnt orange eyes, the spear-shaped zanpakuto that had almost skewered him moments ago now resting against the Arrancar's shoulder blades. It was an enemy Shiro hadn't seen since the purge of the Captains almost 15 years ago: the _Tercera_ Espada, Saika Aron.

"Yo, Saika," he said seriously, but with his ever-present cockiness still lacing his tone. "Long time."

"Yeah," Aron agreed nonchalantly, swinging his spear around to the front and gripping it in a battle stance, "it has been. Try to stay alive long enough for me to get the rust off of this thing, will you?"

"That's my line, Arrancar!" Shiro shouted as he charged, and to his surprise Saika flipped his spear around so that the blunt end faced first, before slamming it hard into the Hollow's stomach. Winded, Shiro tried to raise his sword to parry the thrust, only to have Aron flip his spear around again, so that the spiked end was racing towards his head with an arc strong enough to split him clean in half. The Hollow couldn't jump out of the way without risking hitting the spearhead, and so he dodged to the right instead, letting the point go by him and embed itself in the ground.

By the time Shiro noticed that Saika was only gripping his spear with one hand, the _cero_ that had been charging in the other hand had been fired off and slammed into him at close to point-blank range. Now the positions were reversed as the Hollow fell to his knees and then to the ground, Aron looming over him victoriously.

"Seriously, that's _it_?" he scoffed, looking down at his felled opponent with disdain. "You've gotten weak, Hollow."

Shiro grit his teeth and willed his legs to bend, using the position to spring upwards back onto his feet and charge Saika again.

"Toothless," the Espada said dismissively, hooking his spear round the back of Shiro's leg and slicing the spearhead past his left hamstring, sending the Hollow crumpling to the ground once again.

"Damn it," Shiro forced out as he hauled himself back up to his feet yet again, "You honestly think one severed bit of muscle is going to stop me, you bastard?"

"If one won't do the trick," Aron mused as he hooked the spear around the Hollow's buckling right leg and cut that hamstring as well, "perhaps two will get the job done."

Shiro fell to his knees as his other leg gave out from under him, left with no other recourse but to raise his sword and attempt to fire on last, desperate _Getsuga_.

"I guess the third time really is the charm after all," the _Tercera_ quipped as he ripped through the muscles in Shiro's sword arm with his spear, looking on in grim satisfaction as his opponent finally fell on his back in the dirt, powerless.

"If you're going to do nothing more than waste my time, Shiro," Saika said evenly, "stay down and don't waste any more of it."

"Fuck you!" The Hollow hissed defiantly, and Aron's gaze darkened considerably.

"You never learn, do you?" he asked as he slammed the butt of his spear down on Shiro's sternum, crushing it and causing the Hollow to hack up blood. "For all of your self-proclaimed sentience, you're still nothing more than a bestial Hollow."

Before the prone warrior could snarl so much as a curse in response, the Espada's foot crashed down onto his skull and the world went black. Saika sighed at how disappointingly easy the 'duel' had been, turning around with the intention to go assist whoever needed it when he found himself facing a strange-looking opponent.

"Who the hell're you?" he asked, his interest rising as he felt the power of the warrior before him.

"The name's Love Aikawa," the figure said, raising a hand up to his face and holding it there. Saika's mouth opened slightly in shock as a Hollow Mask coalesced out of thin air, affixing itself to Love's face as he pulled it down sharply. His eyes became black and yellow, and Aron could immediately feel a shift in Aikawa's reiatsu; it became heavier and more twisted, exactly like…

An Espada's reiatsu.

This was going to be fun then, after all.

* * *

Kira was working as quickly as he could to heal Hisagi's considerable wounds, and had nearly finished when the loud, strained noise of a tear being opened in the spiritual fabric of Soul Society sounded out right nearby. Turning his head to face the new arrival as they stepped forward from the _garganta_, Izuru's eyes widened in fear as he saw who had come to face him.

It was the _Cuarta_ Espada, the one who had captured Kisuke Urahara: Barragan Luisenbarn.

"What's this?" the Espada said gruffly as he hoisted his axe-shaped zanpakuto over his shoulder. "All I have to deal with are you two rats? How disappointing. That brat Ulquiorra and I have some unfinished business to attend to; perhaps I should have brought along my servants after all. No matter," he finished as he swung the giant blade of _Arrogante_ and shattered the _Tozansho_ pyramid in a single blow.

"I will simply erase your flesh from existence, and then turn my attention to worthier opponents. _Rot_, Arrogante."

Kira remembered from the last time he'd seen Barragan in battle that it had been a ways into the duel before he'd released his zanpakuto: clearly, the _Cuarta_ was deadly serious, and it would be suicidal for the Shinigami to be anything less than that as well. He used a burst of _shunpo_ instantly to move the duel as far away from Hisagi as he could, trying to maintain a firm grip on Wabisuke as Luisenbarn casually closed the distance between them. Kira's grip began to shake, however, as he saw the turning the ground black and arid with every step Barragan took.

Izuru knew his close-range zanpakuto would put him at an extreme disadvantage, so he tried to maintain what distance remained between him and his opponent by using the only weapon that remained to him.

"_Hado number 73: Soren Soukatsui!"_

"_Respira."_

The black smog issued from Barragan's maw with surprising speed considering its stifling thickness, blotting out the blue flames of the _Soren Soukatsui_ like a gale of wind extinguishing a sputtering matchstick. Kira executed a quick _shunpo_ to evade the _Respira_ as it closed in on him, but the Espada wasn't about to let his target escape so easily. Luisenbarn immediately disappeared in a buzz of _sonido_, and before his Shinigami prey could so much as blink, his skeletal hand had closed over Izuru's right arm. The appendage rotted the flesh beneath its grip into nothingness, before shattering the underlying bone as well. Kira let go of his sword and howled in pain, but the outburst made no impression on the _Cuarta_ Espada whatsoever as he crippled Izuru's right leg in the same fashion; he wanted to make absolutely sure there was no chance of his enemy escaping before he moved in for the killing blow. As his hand hovered over Kira's head, however, Barragan became aware of another person having appeared behind him. Shifting his attention away from Izuru for the moment, Barragan turned his skull over his shoulder to appraise the new arrival.

"And who might you be, maggot?" he asked, but the newcomer simply cracked his neck settled into a fighting stance, the glint of the sun off of the ring in his eyebrow paling in comparison to the murderous gleam simmering in his eyes.

* * *

Rangiku and Orihime were beyond relieved to find Rukia no worse off than simply being unconscious, and Inoue hurried over to rouse her friend while Matsumoto stood guard, watching and waiting for the next enemy to appear.

She didn't have to wait very long at all, as a sharp disturbance in the air alerted the Shinigami to a _garganta_ being opened not too far away. Wasting no time and calling out Haineko's _shikai_, Rangiku forced her heartbeat to remain steady and faced the direction she knew her enemy would be coming from. When that enemy finally appeared, however, Matsumoto's confidence evaporated completely and she stood stock-still in horror, praying that this was some kind of sick joke. When Orihime saw who had come to face them, her reaction was equally shocked.

"Oh, no…" she breathed out, and the Espada in front of the trio smiled grimly.

"Yes, I'm afraid," Eris Caedea answered. "If you wish to surrender now, I give you my word that I will spare your lives. Fight me," she continued ominously, "and I cannot guarantee that I will be so charitable."

Matsumoto gave a chuckle that was buoyed by entirely false bravado, brandishing her _shikai_ despite the overwhelming odds in front of her.

"You think I'm going to back down just because you're the _Primera_, Arrancar? Don't take me so lightly!"

Rangiku was about to unleash Haineko's full fury against her enemy when Eris appeared directly in front of her, so close that the Shinigami could see her reflection in Caedea's green eyes.

"Foolish woman," she muttered, striking out with her hand and hoping that a hard enough blow to the abdomen would break Matsumoto and force her to stay down. Right before her fist reached its target, however, the _Primera_ stopped her attack and her expression became clouded by surprise for a brief moment before she calmed back down and frowned.

"Women in your condition," she said softly, "have no place on the battlefield."

The fist that would have collided with Rangiku's midsection instead shifted course and slammed into her lower jaw in a fierce uppercut, knocking the Shinigami out cold and sending her briefly into the air before she landed on the dirt, unmoving. Her first opponent incapacitated, Eris turned her attention to the young healer and her Shinigami companion.

"Next," she challenged, drawing her _katana_-shaped zanpakuto from its black sheath at her hip. Knowing better than to try and duel the _Primera_ Espada in a one-on-one duel, Rukia and Orihime attacked together. Sode no Shirayuki's white blade glinted proudly in the sunlight, while Inoue summoned Tsubaki and used his power to augment her _katana_, wrapping it in a flaming glow and illuminating the healer's inner strength.

"Not bad," the Arrancar commented as the two-pronged attack hit her, Rukia's zanpakuto striking against Eris' side and drawing a small amount of blood, while Inoue's blade clashed against the Espada's zanpakuto and possessed enough power to put a notch in it. "But I have no interest in fighting for any longer than is necessary."

Caedea vanished with _sonido_, and when she reappeared behind her attackers a heartbeat later both Orihime and Rukia gasped sharply. Their nerves finally caught up with the pain blazing along them as blood arced out from slash wounds on their chests, forcing both women to fight to stay upright as their knees buckled under the strain.

"You can still stand after that?" Eris mused, her eyebrows arching slightly in surprise. "Impressive. Either you all have gotten stronger since last I took the field, or my own blade's sharpness has dulled. No matter what the reason, however," she finished as she turned her zanpakuto's blade around in her hand, "I will respect your tenacity by not treating it lightly any longer. Prepare yourselves."

"No way," Orihime said in shock as she continued to force back the pain that threatened to bring her to her knees. "She made that cut… with the _back_ of her sword?"

_Shit,_ Rukia thought bitterly as she tried to lift Sode no Shirayuki up and couldn't, _we're as good as dead like this!_

"Man, did I come to the right place or what?" an unfamiliar voice broke in from off to the side. "I haven't seen this many lookers in one place in ages!"

Eris looked over to take the measure of the newcomer, put off at once by his odd manner of dress, casual yet commanding bearing and frightening strength.

"Who might you be?" she inquired, and the man flashed the Espada a wide grin.

"Shinji Hirako," he said confidently as he took off his cabby hat and summoned a Hollow Mask over his face, drawing a look of shock from the _Primera_.

"Pleased to meet ya."

* * *

Neliel broke apart from another clash with the creature who had once been Momo Hinamori and caught her breath, cursing the fact that she couldn't get enough of an opening to use her _resurreccion_ again. Fighting a rampaging monster with no concept of pain or exhaustion while using Gamuza's sealed form was a decidedly sub-par strategy, but she would have to find a way to make it work nonetheless. Before the former Espada had much of a chance to think about how to attack, though, the rabid Hollow had roared and charged once again.

"You just don't give up, do you?" Nel grit as she traded blows with the bloodthirsty Hollow, her face tightening in consternation as she was forced to give ground under the pressure of her enemy's relentless assault.

The Arrancar decided to try flowing with the force of the Hollow's attack rather than pushing against it, shifting her body to the side and allowing the monster to be carried forward by its center of gravity. The beast stumbled as its own momentum worked against it, and Neliel immediately capitalized on the opportunity by scoring a solid blow and slicing clean through the Hollow's arm. Her eyes widened in shock heartbeats later, however, as white liquid erupted from the stump and hardened into a new, totally healed arm; the attack had succeeded in doing nothing but making an already-infuriated opponent even angrier. The monster whipped around and threw a vicious series of punches at Nel's face and midsection, sending her reeling back as her senses went fuzzy with pain and disorientation.

"_Die,_" the Hollow hissed as she extended her arm and began to charge up a truly powerful _cero_, with Neliel too stunned to do much more than prepare her body for the imminent onslaught of a very, very intense pain.

But that pain never came. The light of the _cero _was snuffed out completely as a snarl replete with pain and rage tore through the air, the sound jolting Nel partway out of her daze. The rabid Hollow's limb had once again been severed, but this time its attacker followed up that blow with a series of brutal, unrelenting slashes and finished off the string of attacks with a _cero_ that utterly disintegrated the monster.

"Thank… you," Nel forced out through winded lungs, unable to clearly make out which of her allies had saved her but desiring to show her gratitude in any case. To her surprise, the one who had kept her from being killed let out a darkly sinister chuckle.

"Why would you thank me, woman?" he spat as he turned around, and Neliel's heart clenched as she recognized the man's face as that of Ajax Oileus, the _Quinta_ Espada and the warrior who had killed Kenpachi Zaraki.

"I was just getting rid of that thing so it wouldn't get in my way!"

The adrenaline of the moment cleared up her vision, and Nel saw the feral gleam in Ajax's blue eyes. All of a sudden she was back on the parapet in Hueco Mundo, her mind's eye forcing her to relive the last time she had been so helpless in the face of an enemy: when Nnoitra had ambushed her and beaten her to within an inch of her life.

Ajax saw his prey go rigid, her pupils dialated in abject terror, and a thrill ran through him. Targets were always so much more fun to kill when they couldn't do anything to stop him from getting creative with the process. He walked towards her slowly, noticing how she would recoil one step for each stride he took forwards and continuing to move until Nel had her back up against the wall. The contact seemed to pull her out of whatever hallucination she'd been seeing, and Oileus reached down quickly to take away her zanpakuto before Neliel had fully returned to her senses. He knew as soon as she saw her blade in his hands and opened her mouth that his favorite part of the game was about to begin; something he hadn't been able to do when he had disposed of Halibel.

"Wait, don't say anything," he cut her off, pressing the blade of his sword to her throat to make sure she didn't make any funny movements either. "You want this back, don't you?" he asked, gesturing to the green-sheathed sword he held in his other hand. Nel could do nothing more than nod, and Ajax flashed a wicked grin that chilled the pinned Arracar to her bones.

"Okay then, since I'm feeling generous," the _Quinta_ replied, his voice light, "I'll make you a deal. I know that when we Arrancar assume the _resurreccion_ state, all of our injuries are healed. So here's how this game is going to work, you traitorous whore," he finished, his tone shifting from airy back to murderous in the way only the truly insane could manage. "I'm going to put this sword of yours over there," he explained, throwing Gamuza so that it skittered to a halt on the ground several paces away, "and I'm going to do _this_."

Nel gasped in pain as the cold steel left her throat and embedded itself in the right side of her chest seconds later. The wound was deep but not instantly fatal, and Neliel's eyes widened once more in fear as she realized how this sick game of the _Quinta's _was going to play out.

"If you can reach that sword of yours before you bleed out from your wound and pull off your _resurreccion_," Ajax spoke up once again, "I'll let you go free. Hell, I'll do even better than that; I'll let you cut my head off. And just so you know," he cautioned, "if you even try to use _sonido_, I'll kill you immediately."

Nel started to move as soon as the Espada backed away from her, taking a few steps before the fatigue of her fight with Momo and the pain of the wound Ajax had just given her forced her down onto one knee. Still, she didn't have any time to waste; she had to make it to her zanpakuto before she bled out, or it was all over. Lying down on the ground, she began to pull herself along through the dirt with her arms and tried to ignore the slick trail of blood she was leaving behind her as she moved.

_She could do this_, she told herself. She'd managed to get Ulquiorra Schiffer to smile, for God's sake; she could reach her zanpakuto in time. As the blood loss began to make her whole body feel lighter, Neliel had to force herself to keep from drifting off to sleep as she moved towards the green-sheathed _katana_ that was her life. But the sun was so warm, and sleep would be so comforting…

"Wake up, Arrancar!"

The sharp sensation of pain jolted Nel back to wakefulness, and it was only after a few heartbeats that she became aware of Ajax's sword being lodged in her left hand.

"You're almost there," he said with twisted encouragement as he pulled out his sword and moved away, Neliel scrambling harder now than ever to reach Gamuza. "Don't give up now!"

But what Nel hadn't had time to think about was that moving faster also sped up her pulse, causing blood to flow faster from her wound. Still she pushed through it, remembering all of those pep-talks she'd given to Ulquiorra about being less of an emotional closet case and realizing that it would be horrible of her to have pushed him so hard, only to die here and let him down. She was almost there, just a little bit more…

But just as Neliel's hand was about to close around her zanpakuto, Ajax's foot kicked it further away from her. Feeling the blood continuing to seep from her wound and realizing that this was the end, Nel summoned up all of her strength and rose to her feet. This done, she reached out and gripped onto the _Quinta's_ throat, with the intention of breaking his neck and taking him down to hell with her. But Ajax merely smirked as she tightened her grip, holding up a small black box in his left hand. Neliel saw what it was and tried to get away, but had no strength left in her limbs to retreat.

"Have fun bleeding out in the darkness of the void, woman," Oileus said viciously as he freed himself from Nel's grip and activated his _caja negacion_, trapping her in the space between the worlds of Hueco Mundo and Soul Society. There was no way she could possibly escape in the shape she was in:

That void was where she would die.

"One down," Ajax said coldly as he turned his attention to Soi Fon, who was still prone but clearly conscious, "one to go."

"You son of a bitch," the Shinigami spat, furious that her friend had been murdered so callously right in front of her eyes and she'd been utterly incapable of helping her. "I'm going to kill you."

"What is it with you women and your overconfidence?" Ajax sneered as he closed the distance between them and readied his zanpakuto for a quick strike down into Soi Fon's heart. "Am I just gonna have to kill each and every single one of you before you realize you have no business holding a sword?"

The Shinigami didn't close her eyes as the steel shrieked towards her, cursing the Espada above her with her last breath as she felt the point of the zanpakuto pierce the flesh of her chest.

"That's far enough, you bastard."

Ajax's blue eyes grew in shock as he felt his blade stop dead, a hand wrapped around it and holding it firmly in place. The owner of the hand was clearly unconcerned about the blood leaking from it as it gripped the weapon's edge, and when the Espada shifted his attention to see who would be so reckless, he was met with a sight that shocked him even further.

The yellow-and-black eyes of a Hollow glared murderously at him from behind a white mask, a zanpakuto at the warrior's waist completing the terrifying picture of a wrathful Hollow-Shinigami hybrid.

"Get the hell away from her," the Vizard growled, before snapping off the lower half of Ajax's sword and forcing it into his chest, bypassing the protective _hierro_ like it didn't even exist. The Espada cursed and instinctively used _sonido_, retreating a few paces and yanking the steel from his body before dropping the shard to the ground and splintering it with his foot. Funneling reiatsu into his zanpakuto, Oileus regenerated the broken weapon and stared down his new foe, anger flashing in his eyes. His opponent, however, was utterly unfazed by the strength of his adversary.

"Who are you?" Ajax demanded, and the Vizard answered as he drew his zanpakuto with a hiss.

"My name is Héctor Jaegerjaques, and I'm going to kill you." he answered evenly, as Soi Fon's eyes widened in surprise. _That_ was her son?!

"Heh, you're a cocky little shit," Ajax parried, glad that he was going to have at least a little bit of fun fighting someone who could actually give him a good duel.

"Let's go."

* * *

It had been a long, long time since Sosuke Aizen had bled, reaching all the way back to before he had changed his face and his name: back to the time when his brother Isshin had nearly killed him in a duel to the death. And yet here he was, about to deliver a killing blow to his traitorous second-in-command, and he couldn't see out of one eye for blood seeping down from a cut above it.

"I must commend your performance in this fight, Gin," he said as Ichimaru tried to lift his broken zanpakuto and failed. "Truly, you have managed to exceed even my expectations. It is quite impressive that you managed to hide your true abilities from me for so long, which in turn makes my heart even heavier at the thought of having to kill you."

"You have a heart?" Gin quipped, holding on to his sense of humor to the very end. "I guess we both learned something today, huh Captain?"

Sosuke said nothing, his smile widening infinitesimally as he hoisted the blood-soaked blade of Kyoka Suigetsu into the air. Before he completed the stroke, however, a shout boomed from the other end of the now-ruined Throne Room.

"Aizen!"

The lord of Las Noches' smile broke out into a rare grin at the voice, and he lowered his sword.

"This will have to wait, Gin," he said genteelly, before turning around to fully face Ichigo, who was standing in the doorway already having assumed his _bankai_ form.

"It's been quite some time, nephew," he addressed the younger Kurosaki. "I trust your father trained you well?"

"Well enough to kill you," Ichigo growled back, his black-and-yellow eyes narrowing, "which is what I'm going to do right now."

"Why not join me instead, Ichigo?"

The question hung in the air for several moments, and neither Aizen nor the younger Kurosaki said a word. Finally, Ichigo broke the heavy silence.

"Why the hell would I want to do that!?" he shouted. But Sosuke was unfazed by the outburst, and tried a slightly different tack.

"Why _wouldn't_ you want to?" he pressed. "Think about it this way, Ichigo," the Shinigami continued. "The girl you loved, the one you sacrificed so much for, now finds her comfort at night in the arms of another man. Your friends have abandoned you, and would rather face insurmountable odds alone than ask for your help. Your sisters are nothing more than corpses in the ground, and your father is trapped in the King's Realm now for the rest of his existence.

"I am the only family you have left, Ichigo," Aizen finished, lifting his zanpakuto's most important illusion and standing before Ichigo wearing his true face, that of Kago Kurosaki.

"Why shed your blood for those who would give you nothing but scorn in return," the older Kurosaki asked in a voice that reminded Ichigo of his own to an uncomfortable degree, "when you could fight for me, when we could achieve power enough to rival God and reshape this world as we see fit?"

Ichigo said nothing for a few long moments, too stunned by the sight of his own face aged by about 40 years physically staring back at him to speak. It _would_ be nice, he thought, to possess that power, the weight of his uncle's final proposal and the implications of the words 'as we see fit' ringing in his head and surging through him like a drug. He could bring his sisters back to life, have a second chance with Rukia, see his mother again…

"No," he forced defiantly through his lips, and Kago's eyebrows arched in mild surprise.

"No?" he repeated. "Are you serious, Ichigo?"

"I can't just sacrifice everyone else for my own personal desires!" Ichigo shouted, feeling strength well up in his soul as he banished the delusions of gradeur further and further from his mind. "Everything Ulquiorra and Grimmjow and Neliel gave up to follow me, everything they've all suffered so that I could come here and defeat you, I can't just throw that away! I'm going to defeat you, damn it, even if you are family!"

"The words of a truly idealistic fool, who has not seen this world for what it is," Kago replied with a steely tone as he brandished Kyoka Suigetsu. "Very well, Ichigo. If you will not join me, then I cannot allow you to live!"

Ichigo simply smiled; he knew that with his training, he could definitely win this fight.

"_Getsuga Tensho!"_

* * *

**A/N: **I'm fully aware of the fact that the constant cycle of "Good Guy almost loses a battle only to be saved by Just-In-Time arrival of Heretofore-Unseen-Protagonist" in this chapter probably got old around the third time it happened, but when the "Close Save" is a Shonen trope as old as the genre itself, there're very few ways to avoid it, if any at all. So if you're planning on harping on it in a review, don't.

Also, mega props go out (as usual) to **JasoTheArtisan**, for being a fantastic beta once again. Go read his stuff; it's awesome.


	33. Ventum Ad Supremum Est

**Torn**

**Chapter 33: **Ventum Ad Supremum Est

* * *

Ulquiorra knew how dangerous it would be if Yammy was allowed to assume his gargantuan _resurreccion_ form, which was why he had cut off the _Cero_ Espada's sword-arm the first chance he had. But despite only having one arm, dealing with a shifted center of gravity and fighting without a sword Rialgo was still managing to give him trouble, thanks in large part to his pure brute strength, immense size and bestial tenacity.

"What's wrong, Ulquiorra?" Yammy asked as the former Espada blocked another left hook and fired off another _cero_ that did little more than cause Rialgo to retreat a few steps. "Why don'tcha release your zanpakuto? You aren't gonna beat me without it."

"I don't need to go that far to bring a brute like you down, Yammy," he said as calmly as he could, worry tugging at the edge of his mind more and more persistently as he felt Neliel's reiatsu fluctuating dangerously.

"Oh ho, really?" the giant Espada boomed humorously. "Well, if I'm a brute, you're a proud idiot, Ulquiorra!"

Ulquiorra was about to retort when he felt Nel's reiatsu disappear completely from his senses, and his normally impassive expression became dominated by shock and disbelief.

"See what I mean!?" Yammy shouted, using his enemy's distraction to his advantage and slamming a _bala_ into Ulquiorra's chest, sending him backwards. "If you'd released your zanpakuto earlier, maybe you'da beaten me and you could've run off to save your woman. But now she's dead, Ulquiorra," Rialgo finished as he drew his zanpakuto out of its sheath with his left hand while his enemy rushed forward to try and stop him from releasing,

"And you're about to join her! _Destroy,_ Ira!"

Ulquiorra's desperate advance was rebuffed yet again as Yammy's release resulted in a huge shockwave of reiatsu, the impact of which sent Schiffer's mind reeling even as his body remained stationary. As the smoke and dust from Rialgo's _resurreccion_ began to clear, the green-eyed Arrancar felt the enormity of what had just occurred slam into him with ruthless bluntness.

Neliel was dead. Not severely injured, not unconscious: dead. He would never see her again, never listen to her consistently upbeat voice nagging him over the most trivial of things. He would never be able to wake up with her in his arms again, just looking at her untroubled face and wondering how it was that someone who had been through so much pain could ever find peace of mind again.

Yammy took a few moments to adjust to the new form his _resurreccion_ had given him; thanks to that Shinigami's earlier energy-siphoning attack he wasn't nearly as large as he'd planned on, but Rialgo was confident regardless that this would be more than enough strength to crush the annoying former _Cuarta_ Espada. But as Yammy's eyes refocused on Ulquiorra, he had to blink twice to make sure he wasn't seeing things.

His opponent was just standing there, shell-shocked, with a blank look on his face and none of his usual calm, stoic composure in his eyes. The sudden trauma of feeling his woman vanish from existence entirely had clearly thrown Ulquiorra into a borderline-comatose state, and Rialgo chuckled with sadistic glee as he realized that he would be a fool for not taking advantage of the situation. Moving forward with speed seemingly disproportionate to his massive size, Yammy pulled his healed right arm up before surrounding his right fist with red energy and sending it barreling towards his opponent.

The former Espada saw Rialgo's attack coming, but saw no reason to stop it. He had lost one of the few people he truly cared for, and the one he had undoubtedly cared for the most, because he had allowed his pride to get in the way. He wasn't going to let that happen twice; he deserved just retribution for his error in judgment, and there was no way he would try to shirk from that when he had nothing left to lose.

But Ulquiorra's higher brain functions, or what remained of them, anyway, could only go so far in overruling his baser survival instincts through sheer nihilistic desire to die. His arms moved his zanpakuto up into a guarding position, his blade acting as a buffer despite the lack of conviction in the Arrancar's grip. The attack still hit him with enough force to send him down hard into the dirt, burned and broken, but he was still alive. Yammy followed up his attack by reaching down and wrapping his massive left hand around Ulquiorra's waist, hauling his enemy back up off the ground until he was eye-level with the _Cero_ Espada. Yammy then used his right hand to snatch Ulquiorra's zanpakuto from him, using the massive size of his hand to crush the entire blade into nothing more than a fine powder with a single clench of his fist. This done, he began to charge up a _cero_ with the same right hand and pointed it square at Ulquiorra's head, determined not to take any chances.

"Let him go, Yammy."

The Espada recognized Stark's calm but immense reiatsu in an instant. But rather than turning around to properly address the _Seguenda_ Espada, Yammy growled angrily and spoke, his eyes still focused only on Ulquiorra even if he had banished the _cero_ from his hand.

"What do _you_ want, Stark?" he spat, and Stark did little more than give an irritated sigh in the face of his comrade's blatant disrespect.

"Aizen's orders were for you guys to soften them up," Stark answered plainly. "You've done that, so get out of here; leave the cleanup to us."

Lilynette only half-listened to Yammy's heated reply, knowing that the idiot was going to either provoke Stark into attacking—or just attack them himself—and preparing mentally to recombine with Stark in case he needed to release their full powers. As she focused on calming herself down, however, the petite Arrancar felt another presence tugging at the edge of her senses.

A Shinigami was trying to sneak up on them. Some piss-ant thought that they could not only slip past her, but also pull a fast one on _Stark?_ She was doing the world a public service by killing off people that stupid, Lilynette thought as she drew the sword she kept hidden away in her helmet. The action caused the Shinigami, who she recognized as Yumichika Ayasegawa, to make his move sooner than he had apparently planned, and the barely-controlled tension in the atmosphere spilled over into barely-controlled chaos.

Stark's head turned to see what the fuss was that had caused Lilynette to draw her sword, and Yammy chose that moment to strike out at his fellow Espada with one of his sizeable fists. As Yumichika launched himself towards Stark, the _Seguenda_ and his _fraccion_ locked eyes for a fraction of a second and realized that if they were going to avoid a prolonged duel on two fronts, they had to act immediately. Lilynette used the fastest burst of _sonido_ she'd ever pulled to bring herself next to Stark and the Espada put his hand down on her head, speaking the release command for their _resurreccion_ just as Yumichika came within striking distance.

"_Kick,_ Los Lobos."

The flash of light from the release was blinding, but Yumichika willed himself to keep moving forward. He was almost there—

Until a _cero_ blast struck out from virtually point-blank range, completely stifling the Shinigami's advance as he fell out of the air like an eagle that had gotten its wings unexpectedly clipped in mid-flight.

Yammy knew what form Stark's release would take, but there was nothing he could do to stop his momentum at this point. Despite their gap in rank, the _Seguenda_ was still much faster than him, and speed was all that mattered in a situation such as this. The first blast completely incinerated his attacking arm, and before Yammy could strike out with the other one Stark had turned both pistols on him and pulled the triggers, engulfing the _Cero_ Espada in the destructive energies of several thousand _cero_ blasts.

The light from the barrage faded almost as soon as it had appeared, leaving no trace of Yammy in its wake. Sighing shortly in annoyance at being forced to act in such a rushed way, Stark took a few moments to catch his breath before turning his attention to the prone form of Ulquiorra Schiffer. He was still alive, but only by the thinnest of threads; it would be much easier just to let him die naturally than go through all the effort of shooting him to only speed up the process by a few minutes.

"Stark, you're not seriously thinking of leaving him _alive_, are you?" Lilynette's voice jabbed sharply from the guns he held in his hands. "Hurry up and finish him off, I wanna go back home already!"

"If doing that is the only thing that'll get you to shut up," the _Seguenda_ grumbled, raising the longer of his two pistols and leveling it at Ulquiorra, "then I guess I don't have a choice."

Stark pulled the trigger and let loose with just a single _cero_, although it still contained more than enough power to obliterate what remained of Ulquiorra.

The _cero_ beam never reach its intended target, however, as an unfamiliar presence appeared almost too fast for Stark's eye to follow and placed itself in between the attack and the wounded Arrancar. The _cero_ was swiftly and precisely bisected an instant later, and the smoke from the explosions of the diverted halves soon cleared to reveal a woman holding a _nodachi_-shaped zanpakuto, with black hair arranged in a long ponytail and wearing wireframe glasses.

"Who are _you_, woman?!" Lilynette shouted, in sharp contrast to Stark's careful appraisal of the newcomer. "Get the hell out of the way!"

"You use guns, Arrancar?" Lisa mused, completely ignoring Lilynette's words. "That's a first."

"Why did you stop that _cero_?" Stark asked calmly, his analysis of the opponent complete. "He's experienced a trauma that has broken him mentally; he wants to die."

"I don't care about broken-hearted self pity," Lisa parried with a scoff. "Our part of the deal was to protect that kid Héctor's allies, and that's what I'm gonna do. Besides," she continued, pulling her diamond-shaped mask down over her face and looking out from the line across the middle, "dying's a pretty irrevocable decision. I'm sure he'd be happier making it in a clearer state of mind."

Stark just sighed as the Vizard rushed forward to attack, pissed off that he'd been drawn into another fight and determined to end it quickly.

* * *

"What's wrong, uncle?" Ichigo quipped as he threw another _Getsuga_ at his opponent. "You look like you've gotten slower."

Kago sliced through the attack easily, but had to bite back a slight grimace as he heard the truth ringing spitefully in Ichigo's words. Gin had put up a much better fight than he'd expected, and the injuries from that duel were still plaguing him to a degree.

_Still,_ he told himself as he set his feet and prepared to try a different tactic, _all this means is that the fight will take slightly longer than anticipated… the outcome will remain the same._

"_Hado number 4: Byakurai."_

Ichigo had faced a powerful version of the _Byakurai_ spell before, in his fight with Byakuya on Sougyoku Hill, but this _kido_ made that one look like it had been the work of Renji. A veritable pillar of while lightning came rushing at Ichigo with terrifying speed, and it was only a last-second dodge that kept his injuries to a slight burn on his arm, instead of getting blasted clean in half. Forcing himself not to panic, Ichigo remembered his own hellish _kido_ training and decided that two could most definitely play this game.

"_Hado number 58: Tenran!"_

"You really think using a higher-level _Hado_ is going to make a difference, Ichigo?" Kago asked with thinly-veiled disdain as he weathered the cyclone, breaking it apart with a single forceful swing of his sword.

"The number of a spell means nothing if you lack the strength to bring out its full potential," the elder Kurosaki continued. "In battle, every ounce of experience counts one-hundred times more than a pound of brute strength. _Hado number 1: Sho."_

The younger Kurosaki felt like he'd been hit by a _Shakkaho_ from Tessai, for all the force that was behind the simple _kido_. He was sent flying back as he felt several bones splinter and crack in his chest, but his enemy wasn't done yet.

"_Bakudo number 63: Sajo Sabaku."_

Ichigo was helpless to escape the golden ropes as they encircled him, pressing his arms to his sides and holding him completely immobile, like a mouse in the grip of a python. Kago's expression remained icy as he advanced, disappointed that the warrior he had tried to hard to sway over to his side was, in the end, nothing more than an inexperienced brat.

Ichigo struggled briefly against the bonds of the _Bakudo__,_ but soon realized that breaking through with physical strength was going to be impossible even considering the enhanced power his Hollow _bankai_ gave him. Relaxing his muscles and allowing his reiatsu to flow calmly out around him, Ichigo wove his own energies into the _kido_ surrounding him like threads, looking for structural weak points in the spell. When he had thoroughly infiltrated Kago's _Bakudo_, he pulled hard on the myriad threads he had placed and grinned in satisfaction as the binding stripes fell away from him like cloth.

"Don't underestimate me, you bastard!" Ichigo shouted as he charged at his uncle, whose own brown eyes were as icy and calculating as Ichigo's were simmering with brashness and obvious power. Tensa Zangetsu's blade rose and fell, and Ichigo smirked in victory as he watched blood arc from a massive gash across Kago's chest. An incredibly slight pulse of reiatsu behind him, however, quickly reminded Ichigo that he was dueling someone for whom illusions and deception were as natural as breathing. Shifting his stance to allow for a fluid sidestep and turning his body as he moved, Ichigo was barely able to deflect a thrust from Kyoka Suigetsu that would have otherwise skewered him.

Quickly striking back, Ichigo unleashed a flurry of blows that had soon the elder Kurosaki on the defensive. Not even thinking about holding back in the slightest like he had against Halibel, Ichigo let loose with all of his power and only increased his ferocity as he felt his enemy giving way beneath his attacks. He could win this!

"_Hado number 90: Kurohitsugi."_

The words didn't come from the Kago that Ichigo was currently beating back, and he realized with anger and no small amount of fear that he'd been tricked into leaving himself wide open for a potentially catastrophic attack. The walls of the Black Coffin swiftly formed themselves around him, the scores of lacerating spears following close behind.

Kago watched his spell unfold from several paces away with wry amusement; seeing someone chase after nothing but thin air with all of their might never ceased to amuse him. And because of his lack of perception, Ichigo had waltzed right into the trap the elder Kuroaski had set for him; once this attack finished, destroying the impertinent brat once and for all would be a small matter—

But something felt off with the _kido_, enough to make Kago's brow furrow in confusion: the _Kurohitsugi_ had stalled completely. What was going on?

A few seconds later the black cube shattered into thousands of impotent shards, revealing Ichigo standing there without so much as a scratch. Kago's expression of confusion quickly shifted to one of anger as he realized what had happened: Ichigo had stopped the blades of the _Hado_ spell with his zanpakuto and raw power, before literally ripping the entire attack to shreds. When was he going to get it into his thick skull that this wasn't a fight he was capable of winning?

"It's gonna take more than that to bring me down, uncle!" Ichigo called out as he charged, and the elder Kurosaki made sure that the next strike with Kyoka Suigetsu had enough power behind it to atomize this whelp.

But then Ichigo suddenly disappeared completely from Kago's sights, and words followed from off to his left a fraction of a heartbeat later.

"_Hado number 33: Soukatsui!"_

Kago turned smoothly and deflected the large flame of _kido_ with his sword, only to have Ichigo's voice ring out yet again from an unexpected direction, this time directly behind him.

"_Getsuga Tensho!"_

"A diversion, huh?" Kago mused evenly, using his hand to stop the black crescent of energy cold before flexing his muscles and exerting a strong enough burst of opposing energy to diffuse Ichigo's strike completely. "That only works if one of your two attacks actually hits the target, boy."

"What about the _third_ attack, then?"

Kago barely had time to register Ichigo's new position before his strike came, the energy of _Getsuga_ contained in the sword lending increased power to the blow. It landed with lethal precision, and Ichigo knew as his opponent failed to vanish that he had struck his opponent genuinely this time. As the younger warrior grinned viciously and tried for another strike, however, something changed in Kago's reiatsu. It was as if all Ichigo's attack had done, rather than seriously injure his enemy, was make him finally start to take him seriously. All of a sudden the scales tipped yet again, as a massive surge of reiatsu rose up around Kago and threw Ichigo backward with its sheer force.

Before Ichigo could right himself, the elder Kurosaki appeared next to him in a whisper of _shunpo_ and struck, carving a gash across his nephew's chest to equal the one that Ichigo had just given him. Fighting though the searing, spreading pain that threatened to make him lose focus and drop his guard, the younger Kurosaki tried to strike back at his enemy. But Kago merely shifted out of the way of the blade like he was doing nothing more strenuous then dodging a bamboo _kendo_ sword, gripping the hilt of Kyoka Suigetsu with both hands before delivering a second crushing blow.

Ichigo shouted in pain as dual gashes now crossed over his chest in a gruesome 'X', and strength fled rapidly from his limbs as he fell to the ground and stayed there, unmoving. Kago could still sense reiatsu pulsing in the younger Kurosaki's core, however, and he smiled.

"It's truly impressive that you are still alive, Ichigo," he began, walking over and hauling his nephew's limp body up onto its knees. "But like I told you so long ago," the Shinigami finished, raising Kyoka Suigetsu up and preparing to cleave Ichigo's head from his shoulders,

"Your physical strength and your will to survive not being equal is your greatest weakness."

The blade of Kago's zanpakuto arced downwards, but right before it made contact with Ichigo's neck, the younger Kurosaki's eyes snapped open and sharply into focus as he lifted his sword up with a shout.

"_Getsuga Tensho!"_

The full force of one last, desperate gambit slammed square into the elder Kurosaki's chest, and he reeled backwards with the first expression of genuine shock on his face to have resided there in thousands of years.

"You're wrong," Ichigo forced out as he rose shakily to his feet, black reiatsu flowing out from him stronger now than it had throughout any of their previous clashes. "My willpower… is my _strength!"_

Gathering every single ounce of reiatsu that he still possessed, Ichigo focused it into Tensa Zangetsu and prepared himself for one final strike: the attack that would decide everything. Kago, not too proud or too stupid to realize how wounded he had been by that last sneak attack, did the same.

"Kill me here, Ichigo," the elder Kurosaki said seriously as he wrote his own epitaph, "and it will have consequences far more dire than your mind can even conceive of."

"What should I believe a single word you say!?" Ichigo shouted back fiercely. "I'm going to kill you here and now, and this is going to end!"

Kago merely smiled sadly as the pair rushed towards each other.

_No,_ he thought to himself as they clashed with all of their might, _it's not going to end._

Unohana felt the reiatsu exploding from the other room and had to shield herself from the resultant shockwave as stone rained in chunks down around her, rent from the foundation of Las Noches by the immense power of the final clash. As soon as the chaos had settled down once again, the Shinigami sprang to her feet and ran down the halls to the Throne Room. What she saw there made Unohana's blue eyes darken with sadness:

Ichigo Kurosaki was dead.

His corpse was splayed out on the floor, facing the night sky above his head with a blank gaze that might have suggested he was still sleeping at first glance. But the grievous wounds that covered the rest of his body told another story, and Unohana felt a piercing shame that a war she might have been able to stop had claimed the life of someone so innocent.

Her eyes next passed over the body of someone she recognized with shock as Kago Kurosaki: the man who had been a part of the Royal Guard all the way back before the founding of the Divisions, when she had been a new inductee training under his brother Isshin. As her mind swiftly put all of the macabre puzzle's pieces together, Unohana felt guilt weigh down on her with even greater strength. She had not been able to perceive Aizen for whom he had truly been; she had failed to uncover that secret, just because she had assumed that Kago Kurosaki was a dead man.

A very faint pulse of reiatsu snapped the Shinigami out of her thoughts, and Unohana hurried to get the rubble off of the survivor before they suffocated to death. The pulse flickered weakly just as she moved the last large piece of stone away, and the bruised face of Gin Ichimaru was brought into the light. When the former Captain saw who stood over him, his expression was split by a wide smile. Unohana said nothing, looking deeply into Ichimaru's open garnet eyes before drawing her zanpakuto from its sheath.

* * *

Eris stood apart from her hybrid opponent and took stock of her wounds; Shinji Hirako was no slouch with a blade, that was for certain. Taking a brief moment to worry about how Saika might be holding up, the _Primera_ then shoved those emotions firmly out of her mind and prepared to release her zanpakuto in order to finish the battle off quickly. Right before she began to speak the command, however, the reiatsu link that tied the top Espada to Aizen's direct control was suddenly severed. She could tell from the shifts in the energy of the other four Espada that they had felt the connection break as well, and when she and Shinji had clashed in yet another deadlock, she calmly spoke to the Vizard.

"You're not on the Shinigami's side, are you?" she asked him. "If you were, there was no way you would have waited this long to show up."

Shinji's mouth curled up into a grin, the glint in his eyes reminding the _Primera_ of Gin Ichimaru's opaque cunning to a rather uncomfortable degree.

"We're here 'cause we made a bargain with that kid," he answered casually. "We got no loyalty to the Shinigami, not anymore."

"Then I would be correct in assuming that if I were to bow out of this duel, you would not pursue me?"

Shinji's eyes narrowed in perverse glee as the pieces fell into place in his head.

"Aizen's dead," he said after a moment, "ain't he?"

Eris stayed stone silent, choosing to let her reaction speak for her rather than openly admitting defeat. The Vizard just smiled wider and shrugged, slacking on the grip of his zanpakuto enough to let Eris back away. Moments later Saika appeared at the _Primera's_ side, breaking the silence.

"He's really dead," the _Tercera_ declared, "there's no doubting it. What's the plan, Eris?"

"Why're you even asking that question, you moron?" Ajax spat as he appeared in a buzz of _sonido_ as well, his blue eyes flashing. "We have the Shinigami right where we want them; let's butcher all of these fools and end this war here and now!"

"No," Eris replied, her tone steely, "we cannot continue to fight. I was almost forced to release against my opponent, and if that holds true for me I can only assume that the rest of you would have eventually lost your battles. We will take Aizen's death for the improbable boon that it is, and retire to Hueco Mundo. This war is over."

"Like hell it is," Ajax barked, half-mad with rage as he brandished his zanpakuto at the _Primera_. "If you're just gonna pussy out and let them slide, then I'm gonna have to kill you and take your place as leader!"

As soon as the words had left Ajax's mouth, there was another burst of _sonido_ as Stark appeared suddenly between the _Quinta_ and the _Primera_, one gun raised and pointed so close to Ajax that all he could see was the blackness of the barrel's maw. The _Quinta's_ eyes widened in fear as Stark's narrowed in hatred, understanding what was about to happen but powerless to stop the _Seguenda_ from obtaining his long-delayed revenge.

Stark coldly pulled the trigger and blasted Ajax straight to hell, taking a moment to watch his ashes blowing away in the wind before turning to the last Espada to arrive, and the only other Arrancar Stark knew might have objections.

"What are your thoughts on this, Barragan?"

"You fools can do what you like," he said gruffly, "but don't expect me to hang around. I served no one but Aizen, and now that he's dead I don't plan on kowtowing ever again."

"As is your right, of course," Eris answered, before tearing open a _garganta_ with a wave of her hand. "In any case, there is no further reason for us to remain here, is there?"

The surviving Espada walked through the _garganta_ and shut it behind them with a faint whine. The wounded Shinigami could only watch them go with confusion, stunned at the sudden turn of events and the fact that their enemies had departed with them still breathing. Silence reigned as the conscious warriors took stock of their wounds, while the ones who had passed out were seen to by their Vizard rescuers.

The silence was broken as another rift opened above them. The Vizards kept their weapons lowered, however, as they saw Unohana appear, head bowed and silent as she carried the orphaned blade of Zangetsu in her arms.

* * *


	34. Epilogue

**Torn**

**Epilogue**

* * *

A week had passed since the end of the bitter conflict between the Arrancar formerly known as the Espada and the Shinigami of Soul Society, when the worn and weary soldiers of the Thirteen Divisions decided to hold a funeral in honor of their fallen savior. Unohana presided over the service, her first formal act as Captain Commander. There were angry mutterings amongst some of the recovering Captains that Unohana, who had been, as they called it, 'Aizen's Lapdog', did not deserve the post. Nonetheless, the fact remained that she was the most powerful Captain still alive, not to mention the oldest, and had the experience needed to wield commanding power in such a dark time.

The Vizards had left shortly after the Arrancar had returned to Hueco Mundo, their end of their bargain with Héctor fulfilled and eager to leave Soul Society before old wounds were opened and matters got even more chaotic than they already were. After the conclusion of the funeral, the Shinigami returned to the task of piecing back together lives that had been irrevocably altered by twenty years spent in either captivity or constant combat. Grimmjow, who had attended the funeral out of respect to his fallen friend, bristled at the thinly-disguised and blatant looks of hatred that most of the Shinigami were giving him, but Soi Fon quickly calmed him down before his temper flared up too high to be controlled.

Orihime was seriously considering going to bed and sleeping for a whole day, but her mind was too troubled to let her get any rest. Shiro had been standoffish and moody since she'd healed him, and she had no desire to try to get him to talk to her while he was drinking, most likely to excess, in a bar in the Rukongai. But she had to talk to _someone_, and that left only one candidate.

* * *

The moon was beginning to rise as Orihime approached the door to Ulquiorra's quarters and slid it open, knowing that he would still be awake. He had barely slept since the day Neliel had died, and hadn't come out of the room he had chosen to stay in to see anyone either. Orihime knew that her friend and former teacher was in bad shape, but she couldn't keep from gasping as the moonlight illuminated just how gaunt and frail Ulquiorra was.

His ribcage stood out like fishbones, the scar where the number '4' had once been tattooed onto his chest made even more noticeable on such a ghost-white background. Ulquiorra said nothing as Orihime moved slowly into the room, but a slight shift in his posture told her that he knew she was there. Eyeing a cold plate of food on the small table, her shock quickly turned into anger.

"Ulquiorra," she said as calmly as she could, her hands balling up into fists on their own, "why haven't you eaten your dinner?"

"I'm not hungry," came the faint reply, the fragile tone making Orihime's heart clench in her chest.

"You're lying," she insisted, trying to get Ulquiorra off of the suicidal road of self-pity he was walking down, but the Arrancar didn't budge.

"What does that matter?" he asked, the almost casual tone of his voice finally pushing Orihime over the edge. She stalked over to him and seemed to wrestle with putting her rage into words, before she finally opened her mouth and spoke.

"You know what?" she said acidly as she backed away, locking her gaze with Ulquiorra's and holding it, "go ahead. Do it. Starve yourself to death. Waste away like the coward you are, Ulquiorra. I'm sure Neliel would be so _proud_ of you."

Orihime saw her friend wretch pitifully at that, her hand flying to her mouth in surprise and more than a little shame; she immediately regretted having been so harsh as to go for such an open wound.

"Ulquiorra, I—" she began to apologize, but he waved her silent with one hand as he walked over to the table with the food and sat down in front of it.

"Don't apologize, Orihime," he said after a moment of silence, while she sat down across from him. "You're right."

After she had watched him eat in silence for some time, Orihime broke the silence and answered the question Ulquiorra had left unspoken.

"When my brother died," she said slowly, "for a while, I didn't know what to do with myself. Our parents had died when we were both young, and I didn't have very good memories of them, so for me it was the first time I'd lost someone close to my heart. I didn't go to school for days, until Tatsuki came and stood in front of my house. She waited and waited and waited for me, and then finally I came out and we walked down to school together."

"Why did you leave?" Ulquiorra asked, and Orihime smiled as she rose from her seat.

"I realized how much I was hurting my friends by being so selfish," she finished, walking towards the door, "and that just because I was in pain, that didn't mean there was no one there to help me through it."

Orihime was reaching out to slide the door open when Ulquiorra called out to her.

"Wait. Please."

There was an openness to his voice that she had never heard before, and that coupled with the fact that Ulquiorra Schiffer had just said the word 'please' without a hint of sarcasm in his voice froze Orihime in her tracks. She turned back around and Ulquiorra spoke again, rising as he did so.

"Can I ask you a favor, Orihime?"

"What is it?" she asked. Ulquiorra paused, weighing his words carefully.

"Could you restore my zanpakuto?" he said, and Orihime's eyes narrowed with slight skepticism at the request. Ulquiorra saw the question in her eyes, answering it before she had even given it voice.

"I do not plan on falling on my sword, Orihime," he answered plainly, "if that's what you are worrying about. I know that you did this once, for Neliel, and I would like you to do it for me. It feels… empty, without it here."

Orihime took a few more heartbeats to judge Ulquiorra's sincerity, but when she was sure that he wasn't in a suicidal state of mind anymore, she nodded shortly and walked back over to him. She took his hand in both of hers, trying not to shiver at how cold it was.

"I'm going to need to extract some of your reiatsu," she explained. "It might sting."

"Do what you must," he answered calmly, and she nodded again before getting in tune with Ulquiorra's energy, counting to three in her head and extracting some of it with a sharp pull. He winced, but the warmth of the hands holding his own thankfully deterred Ulquiorra's mind from feeling most of the discomfort. As a small flame of Ulquiorra's green reiatsu hovered in between her hands, Orihime summoned her _Soten Kisshun_ and began working at restoring his zanpakuto. A few minutes later she had finished, but when the shield dispersed, her expression became confused.

"It's… different," she said. "I must have messed up the process."

"No," Ulquiorra corrected her as he approached the green-sheathed blade and picked it up, noting the wavy design of the guard, "this is my zanpakuto. It might have changed, but that is to be expected. After all," he finished, sticking the sword in his sash, "so have I."

"What is its name now?" Orihime asked, and Ulquiorra gave a small smile as he replied, glad to feel that much closer to whole once again.

"Murciélago," he answered. "Thank you for this favor, Orihime."

"Don't mention it," she replied, relieved just to see her friend in high spirits again. "What are you going to do now?" she spoke after a moment. "Now that Aizen's dead, you're free."

"I think I will travel to Hueco Mundo. The solitude there would be the ideal place for me to think things over, and try to find where I fit. Now that I am, as you said, free."

"Good luck," Orihime said with a smile, before turning around and walking back towards the door. As she left, she spoke parting words over her shoulder.

"Whatever you're looking for out there, Ulquiorra, I hope you find it."

Ulquiorra turned his gaze back to the moon, wishing that he could remain under its comforting glow rather than spending his sojourn under its harsh counterpart in Hueco Mundo.

"So do I."

* * *

Héctor was packing his belongings into a large bag as night settled fully over the sky, preparing to set off back to the Human World and fulfill his end of the bargain he had made with the Vizards. In exchange for coming to his aid, the masked hybrids had demanded that Héctor come and train with them as soon as the immediate fallout from the fighting had settled down.

"How long're you gonna be there for?" Grimmjow asked, and his son shrugged.

"Can't say. The closest thing to a definite time they gave me was 'until it feels like you're done', so who knows how long that could be. But don't worry; you saw how strong they were. What could possibly go wrong?"

"Famous last words," Soi Fon grumbled, even though she knew how stubborn her son was and that there was definitely no stopping him now that his mind was made up. After the two had embraced, Héctor turned to speak to his father, his expression deadly serious.

"Be careful, all right?"

Grimmjow looked at his son curiously, but Héctor just frowned at him.

"Don't act like you haven't noticed it, Dad," he pressed. "Those Shinigami at the funeral earlier were all furious. If it had been any other time, I'm sure they would have tried to tear you to shreds just for being an Arrancar! The Espada might have stopped fighting the war," Héctor finished, "but not these Shinigami. They want revenge so badly it's obvious, truce or no truce."

"Even if that's true," Soi Fon parried, "As long as Unohana is Captain Commander and they're recovering from the drain being imprisoned put on them, none of the dissenting Captains are going to dare break the peace."

"Yeah, I guess you're right," Héctor said with a sigh as he slung his bag over his shoulder and walked out of the room. "Just keep your eyes open, okay?"

Grimmjow and Soi Fon stood silently for a few moments as they thought about their son's parting words, and Grimmjow was the one who spoke first.

"He's right, you know."

Soi Fon said nothing, as storm clouds rolled slowly over the horizon.

* * *

Rukia had been forced to visit the Human World in order to pick up supplies from Urahara the next day. The shopkeeper had been leaving to go on a 'Lunch Break' as soon as she had approached, however, and paused to drop an incredibly unsubtle remark about how roses were in bloom this time of year before saying that he'd be back in about twenty minutes and disappearing.

Unable to completely squelch the human instincts she had picked up during the time she had spent living among them, Rukia soon found herself holding a bundle of roses and standing in front of the grave that marked the final resting place of Ichigo Kurosaki, right alongside his mother, father and two sisters. The service that had been held in Soul Society the day before had been a symbolic one; Ichigo's physical remains were interred here, the place he had called home for almost all of his life. As she stood in front of the grave, lost in thought, Rukia suddenly got the feeling that she wasn't alone in the graveyard.

Turning around, her breath caught in her throat and her eyes widened as she saw Ichigo leaning against a nearby tree, watching her.

"So," he said, "You're the one who puts the flowers on that kid's grave every day?"

Rukia was too surprised by the question to even respond, still reeling from the fact that someone who was supposed to be in the ground beneath her feet had just spoken to her.

"You… you don't know who's buried here?" she managed to force out after a moment, still mystified. Ichigo shook his head, and Rukia was snapped out of her stupefication as she realized what was going on here.

Ichigo's soul had been powerful enough to maintain its mature physical shape upon reincarnation in the Human World, rather than being reborn as a baby. But all of the memories he had gained as Ichigo Kurosaki had been stripped away from him, never to return.

While Rukia was lost in her own thoughts, the boy who was and was not Ichigo narrowed his eyes and spoke.

"Do I know you from somewhere?" he asked, and Rukia felt her heart accelerate as the fleeting thought that maybe he remembered her crossed her mind. But then she got her emotions back under control and shook her head, putting the face of the boy she had once loved out of her thoughts for good.

The vibrating of the cell phone in her pocket saved Rukia from any awkward follow-up conversation, and she answered it with slightly-clammy fingers.

"Hello?"

"I'm back, Kuchiki-san!" Urahara's annoyingly cheerful voice answered. "Feel free to drop by—unless you're in the middle of something…?"

He let the question trail off in his uniquely annoying way, and Rukia had to bite back the urge to snarl her reply.

"No," she answered casually, letting the flowers fall from her other hand onto the grass beside the grave, "nothing important. I'll be right over."

As Rukia hung up her phone and turned to leave, the boy called out to her again.

"My name's Tarou, by the way," he said. "Are you _sure_ I haven't seen you somewhere before?"

"Yeah, Tarou," Rukia answered as she walked away,

"I'm sure."

* * *

………..

……………..

**A/N:** For anyone still reading this story out there, and who's interested in following the continuing stories of this particular plotline, here's how the sequel is going to work: since there's a major tonal shift at a certain point, I'm going to split the sequel up into two parts/stories. The first part is going to be a shorter story—still multichapter, though—and then the second story, the third in the sequence, is going to be the main sequel. So both of them will follow from Torn, but one's more like an _intermezzo_ than a full-blown sequel.

Big ups as always to **JasoTheArtisan** for beta-ing this despite having no time and needing two straws, and a huge shout-out also goes out to all of the people who have followed this story from the beginning; thank you for making 'Torn" so much fun to write, and I hope to see you at the next story!


End file.
